


The Lost Ones

by VeritasFerox



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Azgeda, Crash Landing, F/M, Gen, Torture, an ark station besides farm station that made it down, anya is alive and well, commanderlexa, expect lots of violence, nia is evil and needs to die nothing new here, yes there are character deaths this is azgeda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeritasFerox/pseuds/VeritasFerox
Summary: Everyone knew they had less than a 50-50 chance of making it to Earth. A people with nothing to lose will do whatever it takes to survive, right? Making it down was the easy part, now they have to fight harder than ever just to have a chance at living. To up the stakes, they landed in the northern territory of Azgeda. Let the story begin.





	1. Landfall

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first work that I've published for the 100, and as it is ongoing, I would totally appreciate if you guys and gals have any criticisms or ideas that you would like to leave below in the comment section.
> 
> I have this story posted on Fanfiction as well as Wattpad, and they have the most recent updates so far.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 (obviously, certain people would not have died if I did).
> 
> Ratings and/or Tags will be updated as the story progresses and I learn how to use this site.

Hovering just outside gravity's reach, endlessly circling a world once covered by lush green forests, great expanses of prairie plains and desert sands, and millions of square miles of ocean water, lies the pinnacle of mankind's technology, a testament to our survival, the Ark. The Ark, a conglomeration of twelve space stations, all joined together as one by the peoples' of the earth, in order to ensure the continued existence of the last remnant of humanity above a poisoned world. The predicted wait time for return was two hundred years.For two centuries we would huddle together in space, waiting, hoping, and dreaming of going back to a reborn world, restored to its original beauty, strength, and richness.

Well, that's the official story. An advertisement of inspiration driven into our minds over the course of multiple generations that we might come to believe and hold true. And its significance was meant to fuel our very beings into striding forth into a brave new world, free from nuclear weapons, from the horrors of the previous age, into a new era where we would shape the future of our posterity for the better, having learned from the errors of our fathers.But the stark reality is that the best-laid plans usually wash up. That's where the term Plan B comes from, also known as Plan Backup. At least I make that assumption, having seen so many old-world movies in my time on the Ark that it seems obvious.

Now, remember all that basic history you took in class? Whether you were on the Ark or not, I'm sure many of you were shown a brief overview of our timeline. Know now that this is not your typical historical record. This will not follow the events that transpired when the first one hundred and one people were sent down to earth, the expendable juveniles.This account begins during the initiation of Project Exodus, when the stations of the Ark disconnected in a final attempt to return to earth, or die trying.

* * *

 

Although the preliminary separation had gone off without a hitch, once M-Station hit the first atmo layers, the structure began to be tossed around every which way like a balloon in the wind. Multiple shouts and cries echoed through the darkness as people screamed in terror. Everyone had been briefed about the high probability that they would not make it to landfall, but it seemed as if the reality of their situation had only just struck. Either the station would blow up in the atmosphere, or the thrusters would not engage in time to prevent a fatal crash. Emergency power had not yet kicked in, and it seemed now that just over a hundred and fifty people were hurtling to the ground in a metal coffin.

"Are you with me, Kazia?" A breathless grunt followed the question as the station jerked sideways yet again, threatening to upload the stomach contents of the young woman in question.

"Always, Vera." Kazia responded, reaching for her sister's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"I am really not in the mood to throw up right now," Vera gritted out, removing her hand from the embrace in order to grip the arms of her seat, "I'd prefer not to get my clothes dirty, seeing as I'll be needing them once we land."

Kazia let out a dry chuckle. "That's assuming we don't hit water first."

"Three days rations says we'll hit solid ground." Vera stated.

"I'll see you that, and raise you two days rations, we hit water first."

"I guess we'll find out." The possibility of any further banter was cut short when they were suddenly thrown forward against their seat harnesses as the emergency power finally kicked in, and the thrusters engaged, essentially righting the station.

A few moments later everything came to a stop as the station half landed and mostly crashed into something extremely solid. The unmistakable sound of vomiting followed by pained moaning and groaning erupted shortly after from multiple areas of the room, making Kazia wrinkle her nose in disgust. She wasted no time her hands going immediately to her harness in an attempt to free herself. Her ensuing pulls and yanks on the nylon strapping after realizing the eject button on the buckle was broken were unsuccessful. "It's jammed!" She grunted in frustration.

"Here, lemme get that." A young brunet came forward grasping at the harness seeking to assist Kaszia.

"Move it squarehead, that's my sister you've got your hands on." Vera roughly shoved the unknown male away, who stumbled backward before hitting the deck hard, squawking in surprise. Turning back to Kazia, she knelt in front of her seat. "What would you do without me, dear sister?" Taking out a small knife she had hidden up her sleeve, she quickly cut the material away, freeing the girl.

Standing up, Kazia brushed the nylon threads off her clothes. "Well for starters, you wouldn't have anyone to share our awesome adventures with. Besides that, you'd probably piss off more people if I wasn't around to hold your leash."

"Stul pysk. Shut up." Came the retort as the older girl rose to her feet lightly cuffing Kazia on the head as she did so.

Kazia snickered, leaping backward out of range of Vera's reach. "Hey, anyone gonna open the door?" She called out to the front.

"We're working on it." A mechanic by the door release replied. Moments after those words, a hissing sound was heard, and a loud groaning noise filled the room as the door slowly opened, revealing the first rays of sunlight peering in to the people whose whole lives had been lived among the stars, who had never glimpsed the sun from their native sky.

The sight that unfolded itself, however, was not what anyone had been expecting.

"Is that, ice?" An exclamation of awe and disbelief rang out from one the older adult females nearer the door.

"I can feel the cold from here." Another voice spoke up in amazement. The frigid air was a shock to everyone's system, a delight and a wonder to be felt. Many darted forward to the doors in order to absorb the breathtaking scenery surrounding them. For as far as the eye could see outside the door, the land was covered in pure white snow, with nary a bump or mound for a great distance. As people began to venture outside, more of the landscape became apparent. To the west, east, and south they were surrounded by a thick forest of trees, filled in with bushes, logs, and stumps of various kinds and sizes.

Kazia knelt down to the ground and touched it with her hand. Where her fingers were, the snow melted away, leaving a cold wetness in its wake. Grinning, she gathered a clump in her hands and stood up, turning around just in time to receive a cold lump of snow to the face.

The raucous laughter of her sister clued her in immediately. "So that's how you want to play, is it?" Kazia threw Vera a wicked grin before charging her. Caught off guard, Vera received the full force of a hundred and twenty pounds crashing into her, in the process falling heavily to the ground. Effectively pinning her, Kazia wasted no time grabbing a handful of snow and shoving it down the back of her sister's neck. The ensuing screech Vera gave had her bursting with laughter. They continued rolling around in the snow for a few minutes until roll call was announced and everyone had been reigned in.

* * *

 

By the time nightfall had come around, it was clear no one had the slightest clue of where they were, and just hours before it had been reported that the communications array had been completely destroyed during reentry. A small perimeter had been set up around the station, and guard postings were in the process of being drawn up. Everyone would have to follow a schedule of guard rotations in addition to their previously assigned jobs.

Kazia was in the middle of rewiring her third fuse panel of the evening in order to redirect power to the lighting and security systems when she detected a presence behind her. Whirling around she fixed the would-be intruder with a glare. "Really Vera? I thought we'd already proved I can hear you every time. You're not as stealthy as you'd like to believe." She smirked at her sister's sheepish expression.

"Maybe if you weren't blessed with super hearing I'd be able to. I can sneak up on everyone else no problem." Came the sullen retort.

Kazia shrugged. "Sorry about your luck. My genes are awesome."

"We share the same genes, genius."

"I thought I told you to stop wearing my clothes."

Vera cleared her throat. "You know what I mean, smartass." She gestured to the door. "It's been like ten hours, you should eat something."

"Six actually, and I thought you won the bet. We landed on solid ground." Kazia turned back to the panel so she could finish up and put everything back together.

"Well lucky for you, there's water beneath us. Therefore neither of us win the bet since ice doesn't count as solid ground."

"Where do you get an idea like that from? Wait, that kind of makes sense, but is this you being soft?"

"As if, dear sister. Now, are you coming or not?" Kazia waved a pair of wire strippers at her, "Be up in a minute."

"Don't take too long otherwise I'll eat your rations too." Kazia rolled her eyes at the comment as Vera left the room.

She really did love her sister, even though they were only half-blooded, it was better than nothing. In fact, it was the only reason they were sisters. Vera's mother had annulled the marriage to their father when she was only four and run off with some botanist from Agro Station, taking Vera with her. Her father eventually moved on and married again. His unusual situation allowed for a loophole in the strict one-child policy on the Ark. In light of the fact that he had been remarried to someone else, and also no longer retained custody of his daughter from the previous relationship, the Council allowed the birth of another child.

When Vera was twelve, she split from her mother and stepfather and came back to live with her father, only to find she now had a seven-year-old sister. At first, she had been quite angry, because it felt like her father had betrayed her and gone and had another daughter to whom he would give all of his love and affection instead of her. In time though she came to see that this was not the case. Their father loved both of them equally, but being a realist had never entertained the possibility of having any contact with his first daughter after eight years had passed.

Kazia's mother had died by this point, an unfortunate casualty she was termed. In reality, she had contracted radiation poisoning while working in one of the generator rooms on T-station when a reactor breach caused the door to seal with her and two other engineers on the inside. It was contained, fortunately, however, the council would not spare the medical supplies necessary in order to cleanse her system, and as a result, she passed away. Her last hours were not painful, as someone had apparently taken pity on her and given her a dosage of one of the more common anaesthesia drugs in order to ease her discomfort.

Even with all that had happened to the small family in such a short period of time, it seemed they were not in the clear yet. Kazia remembered the official story in the digi-news of their father being caught tampering with life support systems for supposedly malicious reasons, with wild accusations heaped against him from anonymous parties who testified to seeing him acting strangely for a while before the incident had occurred. It had been enraging for the sisters to see their father treated like a criminal, a saboteur, but his fate had been sealed long before he had been captured.

Erik Orlov had been working in secret for years with only a select few, attempting to uncover and shed light on some of the Council's darkest secrets. The exponential deterioration of the Ark's systems, hydroponics, air scrubbers, water filtration, life support, and even the destruction of the Polaris station were just a few of the blemishes he and his team had uncovered.

Usually, people who found out too much had "work accidents." Breached sections, electrical surges, ventilation malfunctions, you name it. Some were given up to the Council by their friends, and even their own spouse, who would then accrue testimonies from certain publicly upstanding people in order to testify against the prisoner of the crime they had committed. Before Erik died he explained to his daughters what was going on, and why. He warned them never to let on to anybody what they knew or suspected, no matter how much they trusted them.

After he was floated, the sisters were kicked out of their living quarters and moved down to the slums of the gathered stations. Most people ostracized them, believing the scandal perpetrated by the Council, thinking in their minds that if their father was a criminal, they probably were too. They just hadn't been caught yet. As a result of these events, Vera developed a highly cynical nature, almost always finding a way to piss someone off just about every day, especially those from the upper class, while Kazia built up a mask without emotion, so that she might not show the contempt and disgust she felt for the dumb sheep she considered most of the Arkadians to be.

The low hum of the panel coming to life pulled Kazia from her thoughts, and she sighed and rubbed her forehead. It wasn't ever meant to be this complicated, not when she was six and life was a blur of discovery and learning, but at some point you have to grow up, she figured. They both had to, faster than most of the other kids their age. Putting the cover back on the switch box she calculated that she had spent enough time for Vera to most likely have eaten both their rations at this point. Kazia sighed again before heading out the door and back up into the main area.

Making her way over to one of the far tables at which sat one sole occupant, she dropped unceremoniously onto the bench opposite the person of interest. Her features lit up in some surprise upon seeing a full plate sitting at her place. "Huh, I thought you would've eaten my share," Kazia remarked, making herself comfortable before grabbing the fork that stuck up from the sticky mound of mush they called mashed potatoes.

Vera glanced up from reading on her tablet. "Considering how long you've been, I should've."

"Well, I won't waste any more time then." Kazia spooned a large forkful of the now lukewarm potatoes in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she rolled the food around in her mouth, trying to get it past her tongue and down her throat. Admittedly the food was not the greatest, but whoever made the potatoes obviously had no clue how to cook. Finally summoning up the mental strength required, she swallowed the mush, and then swallowed again to keep it down. Opening her eyes to see Vera staring inquisitively at her, Kazia cocked her head. "What? Do I have oil on my face or something?"

"Naw, I was just thinking about how cute you were at seven, all chubby and plumpy and wobbly, running around our livings quarters back when we lived on T-station."

Kazia raised her eyebrow at her sister. Something was off with Vera, she wouldn't just go off and be all sentimental for no reason. "You were nothing but a ball of jealousy for like a year when you came to live with us, I find it difficult to believe that you thought I was cute of all things."

"You still are." Vera halfheartedly parried.

But Kazia wouldn't buy it. "Okay, out with it. What's bothering you? I'm always here for you, no matter what." Laying her hand on Vera's, she gave the older girl a smile of reassurance.

Vera sighed. "It's just, all this, you know?" She said, gesturing around her. "I mean, just a few hours ago I wondered if we were all going to die, and now that we've landed on this beautiful world, I really don't mind the cold so much, but I don't have any idea on how to keep us safe and together. The Ark was easy, we had familiarity on our side, but out here, everything is strange and new, we have no idea what's out there, and I don't know how to prepare for that."

Kazia's concern melted away, and she gave her sister a warm smile. "Vera, look at me." She waited until Vera's green eyes met her blue ones before continuing. "Back on the Ark, we had no chance at life. Sure we knew everything there was to know, how to stay out of harm's way and live under the radar, avoid that person and make a deal with this one, we knew how to survive. But down here, we have a chance, not just to survive, but to really live. The rules have changed, and we can make our way apart from everyone else. The possibilities are endless down here. The entire world is at our disposal, and we can spend our lifetime discovering everything about it. Those old-world vids have nothing on the real thing." She reached over the table and shook her sister excitedly. "We're actually here, Vera! We made it!"

Vera's frown disappeared and she gave a small chuckle. Seeing Kazia all hyped over how far they had come so far lightened her mood, and she could feel the strain of the past few weeks slipping away. Kazia was right, she thought, they actually made it here. The worst of it was over, and now they could focus on building a new life here. It seemed as if everyone felt the same way because nothing could contain the buzzing energy everyone possessed as they went about their duties for the next few days, eagerly setting up a home for themselves out of the metal ship that had returned them to the ground after so many years away.

* * *

 

The comfortable familiarity that everyone had begun to experience was not destined to last, however. Shortly after dark on the third night of them being on the ground, disaster struck. Vera was on night duty with a handful of others, including Bellatrix and Adrian, when numerous wraith-like creatures appeared out of the night, moving in perfect tandem with the falling snow. Taken by surprise, they were set upon by fearsome warriors clad in animal furs and leather, faces painted white or covered in gruesome masks made of cloth and metal and bones. Battle cries rang through the air, and soon the guards were fighting toe to toe with the grounder warriors.

The battle was mostly one-sided, the guards being unable to get a clear shot, due to having to use their gun stocks to block themselves from sword strikes. That and the fact that the warriors' strength was most impressive compared to people who were never allowed to exercise beyond what their job requirements were made it almost pathetic to watch.

Adrian fell back upon seeing they had no chance against the invaders without proper backup and had just made it to the door in order to sound the alarm when he felt a thunk, and suddenly his hand was pinned to the door by an arrow. Letting out a cry of pain, he whirled around, only to be met with another thunk, this time in the chest. He looked down in shock, unable to cry out, the only sound coming out of his mouth a strangled gurgle as the air in his chest mixed with the blood pouring into his lungs. A warm thread of liquid ran out of the corner of his mouth as he slumped against the door. The last thing he saw before his world faded to black were the warriors converging as one on the door, already having subdued the guard detail.

Usually a light sleeper, this night Kazia was extra tired from the hard training session earlier in the day in addition to the guard shift she had been scheduled for at the crack of dawn that morning. Therefore, when the shouts and screams echoing through the halls accompanied by the sound of bullets pinging off of metal reached her ears, it took her brain a few moments to realize what was happening. Once she did, however, all of her senses were on high alert, and by the time she regained conscious control over her body, she was in the hallway, sporting a large, wickedly serrated dagger in either hand, each made especially for the carving of flesh and muscle.

Making her way to where the sounds of a struggle were taking place, she halted before an intersection, before carefully sticking her head out, just enough to get an overview of what was happening. The hall was littered with bodies, mostly Arkadian, with a few of the attacking grounders interspersed between them. The floor was red with blood in some places, but the eye was drawn mainly to the three struggling forms in the midst of all the disarray.

Assessing the situation and seeing that the two grounder warriors facing off against her fellow Arkadian were rapidly beating him down, she did not hesitate before flinging herself atop the nearest warrior, burying her one dagger into his shoulder, and the other into his back. Without giving him a chance to recover, she yanked down hard, before jumping back in order to create a cushion of distance between her and her adversary.

With a roar of pain and anger, the warrior whirled around. Like a bull seeing red he charged, fury and death written clear in his eyes. All time seemed to slow around Kazia, and just as he was almost on top of her, she bent low at the waist while pushing forward with her back foot, and using her right shoulder and back, reared up under the warrior as he made to bring his sword down in a brutal strike. He flew through the air and hit the floor heavily. Pouncing on the warrior before he could get up, Kazia buried the dagger in her left hand into his neck and drew it across viciously, effectively ripping his throat out. Ignoring the hot blood spattering her face, she quickly glanced over her shoulder. As she moved her head, she was met with a hard kick to the face, causing her to fall back onto the dead warrior. A heavy foot was then planted on her chest, and looking up through dazed eyes, she saw a fierce looking woman covered in thick white warpaint scrutinizing her with an unreadable expression. A moment later, a sharp blow connected to her head yet again, and this time, her vision went to black and she lost consciousness.


	2. Taken

The sensation of being roughly jolted around as well as the stinging pain running across her left side from front to back slowly pulled Kazia back into the realm of consciousness. Blinking her eyes slightly, she squinted at the sudden brightness that hit them. She was lying on her side, the wooden sideboard of the cart she was in blocking her view of the scenery moving by. Attempting to move her arms and legs, she was perturbed to find that they had been bound tightly with rope.

Raising her head to lean over the side, Kazia took in the view surrounding her. To the rear were three more carts, each pulled by two horses, while flanking the carts on either side were many armed warriors, both on horse and on foot. They were traversing through a heavily wooded area, the path they followed clearly well traveled, probably serving as one of the main roads for these people.

A low groan from behind caused her to look at the rest of those whom she shared the small space with. Bellatrix raised her hands to her head, where white wrappings stood out in stark contrast to her dark skin, a deep red stain having seeped through to the forefront of the bandages. "My head feels like I've been whacked with a lead pipe." The girl winced as she felt the tender areas.

"Where are they taking us?" Flint, a dark-haired, pale skinned youth spoke up fearfully from where he was lying near the front.

"Since they haven't killed all of us, my guess is that they're probably using us for something else. It could be for any number of things, but since we don't know, there's no point in worrying over it." Bellatrix directed her gaze to the boy, speaking in a calming manner. It seemed to have the desired effect, and though he was still highly nervous, eyes darting everywhere, he was clearly attempting to hold it together.

"We need to take a head count, figure out who's left." Kazia spoke up, locking eyes with Bellatrix solemnly. Receiving a nod in return, she turned and began surveying the carts trailing behind them. It was difficult to get a clear number since most of their occupants were still insensible, but judging from the number in their cart, they compared numbers and estimated the total to be around fifty or so. The blow was staggering, as originally there had been a little over two hundred in the station.

"Less than a quarter?" Bellatrix choked in horror. "Did they kill everyone else?" Adrian's lifeless body slumped against the station's door came crashing back to the front of her mind, and her eyes stung from unshed tears. Looking to the sharp features of the other girl's face, her head bowed slightly, a lump formed in Bellatrix's throat, taking away her ability to speak. Just as she was about to crumple into herself, and let the weight of everything crash down, Bellatrix heard a low growl emanate from the smaller girl.

"No," she repeated, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. "We've had enough taken from us. First the Ark, and now here. I will not allow them to take any more." As Kazia raised her head, Bellatrix could see the redness surrounding the blue of her eyes, making them even more vivid, and knew that the other girl was also hurting deeply. As her eyes locked onto Bellatrix's own pools of golden brown, the dark-skinned girl could see the resolve written in them, amidst the surrounding anger and suffering, and knew in her heart that if any one of them would survive this, it would be her. It may take months, it may take years, but no matter what, she would survive, and Bellatrix made up her own mind in that moment that she would stand with her through whatever would come their way, however hard it may be.

* * *

 

Flint barely held back a grunt of pain as he was tumbled out of the cart. It was nearing twilight, and their captors had seemingly decided to stop for the night. Already the bustle of camp preparations were being made with utmost efficiency. These people were clearly well trained, with the way they segregated the prisoners, ensuring that none were left to obscurity, the chances of escaping were all but naught. It was also obvious that the Arkadians were not the first to be taken as prisoners. Looking to the far edge of the camp, he saw Kazia and Bellatrix huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. One of the guards also noticed, and with lengthy strides he swiftly advanced upon and handily grabbed Bellatrix by the collar of her jacket, dragging her away amidst her futile attempts at resistance.

In the middle of his observations, Flint felt a hand clamped down on his shoulder roughly, pulling him to his feet and pushing him to the far side of the camp and into the space so recently vacated by the older dark-skinned girl. As the massive warrior stalked away, he heard Kazia in a low voice. "Don't let them see you talk to Bellatrix or me. They're already suspicious. I need you to find out who'll stand with us when we get to where we're going. We'll need all the eyes we can get."

Keeping his own gaze trained ahead, Flint absorbed the information he had been given. Back on the Ark, he hadn't had any friends to mention. He was a pale, scrawny young kid with crooked teeth. Not being one to particularly enjoy the spotlight, he'd rather make observations of behavior and characteristics. Funny how easy it was to pick up on someone's tells if they didn't realize it was happening.

Scanning the groups of fellow prisoners huddled next to one another, he recognized a few familiar faces. Most of them were immediately ticked off the list, in his mind they would be too weak to endure what was ahead, or more likely to stab you in the back rather than assist, especially if they felt it would benefit them more. A couple faces that he didn't recognize however did stand out, and though he didn't know them at all, he had the feeling that they might be useful in some way.

From Bellatrix's new position, her observance of the remainder of the camp was almost complete. What caught her eye right off the bat was the absence of any of the adults from M-station. That right there spoke volumes. They had either taken the adults away for some other purpose or killed them outright before taking the younger ones. Bellatrix realized this also meant that they weren't going to die right away, and perhaps not at all. No, she corrected herself, people always die, and the first to fall would be those most unable to cope with their new existence.

She almost laughed aloud but managed to hold it back. How ironic, that the Ark would send children into the lion's jaws first before venturing to set foot on the ground themselves. What yellow-bellied lizards, she snorted in contempt. And now yet again, the children are taken by the ground, and the adults are nowhere to be found. Meeting Kazia's eyes from across the camp, she gave a barely perceptible nod. Kazia reached up as if to scratch her ear, before dropping it and looking away. Bellatrix understood. Feel out the environment and the people, and gather information necessary to their continued survival. They would compare notes later, under less watchful eyes.

* * *

 

They had been travelling on foot for days, stopping only once during the day for food and a short rest, and in the evening to set up camp for the night. The prisoners were inadequately dressed for the freezing temperatures, and many were showing signs of mild to severe frostbite on their fingers, toes, and faces from the prolonged exposure. Luckily their numbers had not dropped as of yet, but Kazia feared this was only the beginning.

A couple small outposts had been passed along the way, but they had not stopped to resupply or even converse with the people living in the area. The carts the Arkers had woken up in were now being used to transport the various kills from the hunting parties that would be sent out during the day, and with the rapid pace that was set, the bounty they pulled in grew rapidly. Several deer, bears, a moose, and a variety of other small game birds and animals filled the wagons. One day the hunters had even brought in the bodies of two enormous black wolves, the only predator animals the young Arkadians had seen since their arrival.

In the short time they had been in contact with the grounders, the language these people had spoken in whenever they were within hearing was unrecognizable to Kazia's sharp ears. Though she had studied a few back on the Ark, and according to the area where they had landed the common language had been English before the bombs fell, it seemed as though time had changed the tongues of these strange people. The language was rough and unrefined, and she had no idea whether or not their previous one had been forever lost to them.

These thoughts were quickly forgotten as in her musings, Kazia barely noticed when they approached a large citadel. Surrounded on all sides by wicked looking fortifications, a feeling of unease entered into her gut. As the other prisoners took note of where they were going, anxious murmurs could be heard, quickly rising in pitch and volume, until the cracks of leather whips were heard, and the noise turned to cries and whimpers of pain before subsiding as fast as they had begun, though the tension among the Arkadians had not.

A brief halt was made once they reached the gates of the city, the prisoners being sorted away from the carts carrying their valuable prizes. Making her way to the front of the group, Kazia took in the positions of those surrounding her. Bellatrix was on her left near the middle, while Flint stayed by the tail end. Both were taking an assessment of their new surroundings, all the while keeping an eye on the rest of the members of their group.

A jerk of the head by the lead guard had the prisoners moving forward once again. After a few moments, it became apparent where they were headed. A large castle-like structure positioned in the middle of the city, fortified on all sides by impressive bulwarks and formidable defence points, giving it a most fearsome appearance. An idle thought took root in the back of Kazia's mind, and she wondered whether they would actually walk back out into the light again once they had entered.

The throne room, large and distinctive, adorned with many tapestries, as well as the heads of strange animals and intricately designed weapons, held a strikingly cold aura, one which only served to further dampen the mood of the group. Looking to the far side, everyone present took in the scene before them. Seated upon a throne carved from a single stone, adorned with the bones and teeth of large animals, with what appeared to be animal skulls adorning the armrests, a figure radiating power and importance stared at the newly entered Arkadians with a sharp gleam to her striking bluish-grey eyes. Though flanked on either side by guards armed to the teeth for protection, she appeared to require none of that. Her presence alone was enough to make even the boldest man shiver when fixed with that eerily inquisitive gaze.

"My warriors tell me you fell from the sky, that you are of the same Skaikru who landed in Trikru territory." Hearing their own language being spoken fluently shocked the prisoners, who hadn't the slightest clue these people had, let alone could speak another language besides the one they had already heard.

Flint's mouth dropped open in amazement and horror, as no doubt many of the others had as well. A shiver of fear ran down his spine, the implications of this newly acquired knowledge dawning upon him. If any of the warriors guarding them had heard what they had been planning, their fates had already been decided before they even set foot within the room. His eyes darted to both Bellatrix and Kazia, who stayed impassive, their gazes trained toward the front. No doubt they too realized the danger, but it was too late to do anything about it.

"I am Nia, kwin kom Azgeda. You and the rest of your people have landed not only my territory but also in other places among the twelve clans." The queen leaned forward slightly, observing the prisoners in turn. "I demand to know why you have come and invaded my land. If you thought to yourselves that you would take possession, you are sorely mistaken. Azgeda is unconquerable, and you will sooner die than hope to win a war against us."

None of the prisoners dared speak a word though fear was plainly visible on many faces at the queen's words. Perceiving that she was not going to receive an answer anytime soon, Nia's eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. "Very well. Send them to Cronas. He will either loosen their tongues or remove them altogether." The warriors standing by snapped to attention and began roughly herding the now panicking Arker prisoners away. Anyone could tell from her words that whatever they were to face next would be far worse than anything they had yet experienced.

Shouts of fear and rage echoed along the halls and out into the open air as the prisoners were dragged away. Many were beaten brutally when they resisted, though they had nowhere to run, especially as the outside walls of the citadel held only cold, snow-covered forests for many miles in all directions, and death at the hands of countless predators waiting just outside their reach.

* * *

 

Nothing could have ever prepared the orphaned sky fallen for what they were about to face. The dungeons were unimaginably cruel, those in charge making even your worst nightmares seem like a walk in the park.

Days and nights blurred together like a broken recording on an endless loop, filled with the cries and screams of those being tortured. Excruciating pain, blood that never fully dried, and the bone-numbing chill from their stony prison were just a few of the many experiences they were forced to endure. The sting of the whip became familiar, as had the vicious bite of spiked clubs, and the sickening smell of burnt flesh from countless brandings. Within the first week, many had fallen ill, due to the cold and damp of the prison, and without the ability to keep oneself warm or even adequately clean, not to mention the physical turmoil they had been thrown into. Fever had claimed the lives of some, while others succumbed to their grievous wounds, and the Arkadians' numbers dropped rapidly during the first few weeks.

Those that still clung to life did so through sheer willpower and doing whatever it took to bind themselves up during the short respite they were given in between sessions. Though sadistic, Cronas still allowed them water and rags with which to clean their wounds, and heated metal to burn them closed. Bellatrix believed he did so in order to give them false hope, that maybe soon they might be released from this hell. She had never seen real cruelty such as this, but she could tell that he was unhinged. Something was wrong with his head because nobody in their right mind would be barbaric in unspeakable ways.

What she thought of the dungeon master mattered not, however, for there were always wounds to be tended to whenever someone came back to a shared cell. One of the older kids, a boy around eighteen or so, sporting short brown hair, had taken it upon himself to show them how to clean the cuts, tears, and burns that were inflicted upon them, and how to close up those that were open and bleeding in order to lessen the possibility of infection and speed recovery. His name was Matthew, but that was quickly shortened to Matt, especially when there were multiple patients in need of attention.

The other three learned he had been studying basic medicine for a few years on the Ark before they had been sent to the ground, and in the eyes of most of the others he truly was a lifesaver. Though many still died needlessly, it took longer than it would have if he hadn't been around. Kazia saw value in the boy and decided to take him into her confidence. He was capable and had handled himself well so far in the dire circumstances they had been thrust into. If they ever made it out, she knew he would have promise as much more than a healer.

Though every one of them had been through hell so far, Flint had borne some of the worst of it as of recent. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for days, his head burning hot with fever. Bellatrix and Kazia would often have him laying across their legs in order to keep him off the damp of the stone floor. Every so often they would trickle some water down his throat, in order to keep him hydrated. But even with all their efforts, there seemed to be no improvement. Matthew had paid close attention to the young boy as well and solemnly told the girls that there was only so much that could be done. The look in his eyes told them all they needed to know. Either Flint would wake up, or he wouldn't.

Kazia couldn't help it. Not since her father had been floated had she allowed herself to shed any tears. Even when Vera had vanished along with the other adults, she held on to the hope that maybe they weren't dead, maybe they had been taken elsewhere. There hadn't really been much time to contemplate the fate of her sister with everything else to preoccupy her mind at the moment, but seeing Flint like this, he was so young, she thought, and there was no way he deserved to die. When she saw Matthew's eyes, the tears sprang unbidden into her own, clouding her vision, and yet she refused to allow them to fall. Not here, and not now, she thought. Never show them any weakness. When all is said and done, then you may weep, but not now.

If they ever made it out, she swore in her heart to avenge those who had fallen, even if she had to sacrifice her own self to do it. She would wait, and watch, and bide her time until she had the opportunity to take her wrath and vengeance out on every single one of them.

* * *

 

The sound of a metal lock grinding accompanied by the ever so meaningful click called Bellatrix out of her dreamless slumber. As the fog cleared from her mind, she raised her head from off of the leg of one of the other prisoners, an older girl whose name she couldn't place at the moment. What she saw immediately had her alert and ready. A handful of warriors were going through the dungeon, unlocking each of the cells holding the Ark prisoners, and herding them toward the stairs that led up and out of the prison.

Her eyes darted around her cell, taking in the quickly waking forms of Kazia and Matthew, and the weak but alert form of Flint. It had been rough going, but the boy had pulled through, just barely. The fever had left the night before, the only reason that Bellatrix was able to get any kind of restful sleep, no doubt the same could be said for the other two, who were thankful he wasn't knocking on death's door for the time being.

Rising up from the floor, Bellatrix stood attentively, waiting for their cell to be opened. When it was, she immediately fell into the flow of the push and pull of multiple bodies making their way from the cells to the ground above. As they reached the heavy wooden doors bound with metal strapping, she had to put up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun's merciless glare. A quick glance around showed that everyone else was doing the same thing.

Not one to miss much, the girl quickly noticed that the snow on the ground had melted some during their absence from the surface, mixing with the dirt to create slush and mud. It was also noticeably warmer, but that could also be attributed to having just been released from the ground itself.

Looking around their group, which had shrunk considerably since their capture, Bellatrix figured less than twenty were left. Months of torture, expertly dragged out to the point of near death had seen many die anyway, their body succumbed to fever or infection, in other cases the mind finally giving up on life altogether. Among those few remaining were a handful who had barely escaped the certain death that would surely have come from further prolonged imprisonment. Feeling the bodies behind her moving aside, she turned her head to see Flint leaning heavily on Kazia and Matthew, both of whom were stone-faced. They both gave her a clipped nod, which she returned barely, neither of them daring to draw unwanted attention. The boy himself was doing his best to keep his composure, his strength of mind battling against the physical weakness of his body. He was paler than usual, and Bellatrix thought wryly that they all were, but his complexion was more noticeable. Still, he kept his head high and his gaze, though pained, was unfaltering.

Once again the Arkadians were led back into the throne room of the ice queen. As before, yet again, the queen sat regally upon her throne, confident in the fact that she had nothing to fear from these weak children. And she hadn't naught to worry, for none of them could stand to rise up, and they all knew that any attempt would be suicidal. The guards flanking the queen would cut them down before they could make it within three feet of her. Instead, they cast their attention fully upon the queen herself, some waiting in fearful anticipation of what she would say, and others cautiously hopeful. After all, they had survived months in the dark, the blood, and the fire. Maybe now they would be granted freedom from their prison.

"The last time you were here, you came as outsiders, intruders from another clan, attempting to threaten the safety of Azgeda and her people, my people." Time had done nothing to lessen the harshness of the voice which rang out in the great hall. It had grown colder if that was possible, echoing across the walls, and causing shivers to crawl up the spines of those standing before her.

Bellatrix almost snorted in disbelief at the words which were spoken. That they had ever posed a threat against these people was ridiculous. Idly, she wondered if everyone in Azgeda was as touched in the head as Cronas and Nia seemed to be. It took her a moment to really process what had been implied, but in that time the queen continued to carry on with her speech, seemingly more for her own benefit than for theirs.

"In the time that you have stayed with us, it has become apparent that you no longer pose a great risk to our people, and the fact that you have survived all we have thrown at you so far proves that you are at least worthy of being given a choice." Here Nia leaned forward in her seat, eyes attentive to the reaction that would follow her next words. "I offer, to each and every one of you, a chance to make a home of Azgeda. It will be arduous, filled with sleepless nights, and death will follow your every step outside these walls. You will be shown the path of a warrior first, and given the ability to rise through the ranks, gaining privileges and comforts only allowed to the strongest. If you are successful, I may look upon you with favour, depending on how useful you become. I require only that you swear yourselves to me, and to Azgeda as a whole, to fight, to bleed, and to die a warriors' death if possible in battle those who may stand against us."

Queen Nia paused a moment, surveying the bloodied and beaten group before her, watching their expressions shift and change like flowing water, casting glances among one another as if to decide whether or not to accept. Once satisfied her promises had sunk into ready ears, she leaned back, and her tone adopted that of one without care nor emotion. "However, if you believe that you stand a better chance outside the protection that Azgeda offers, you are free to try your luck beyond these walls. But know this, you will not get very far."

The threat behind her words was obvious. Some of the expressions of the listening party turned sick at the idea of living with the people that had already taken away everything they had left and then torturing them nigh to the point of death. Being informed that they could either pledge their allegiance to their captors, or be sentenced to die out in the cold, and more likely than not by the blade of a sword or the point of an arrow did not instill hope within them either. Others faltered, uncertain of what to do, wondering how their decision would affect not only themselves, but also of what light they would be cast in by their peers. And some retained their composure, allowing nothing to slip through the careful mask they had built in order to hide their expressions.

During Nia's speech, Kazia and Matthew had subtly made their way near the front of the group, having left Flint in the care of Lobo and Miren respectively, and were preparing to make their move. Growing up having access to much of what remained of recorded history, ancient to most recent, as well as a vast digital library spanning thousands upon thousands of books, manuscripts, diaries, etc, they were some of the few that really took the time to peruse over the material that had been freely given. In time perhaps that knowledge would come in handy, but for now they knew that in order to take the first step toward their continued survival meant that they had to set an example.

They let the silence hang heavy in the room for a short while, before pushing forward, one after the other, to present themselves to Nia, so as to give a reply to her ultimatum. Standing straight and tall, Kazia locked eyes with the queen for a long moment, before she fell to her knees, and bowed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matthew follow a moment later before bowing the knee also, staring resolutely at the floor, in order to mask the swirl of emotions in his eyes.

The room was quiet for so long that Kazia feared the others would not follow their lead. But seeing the first two of their group take the plunge seemed to solidify a common idea among the rest. Slowly, each and every one of their group came forward and bowed down. There was no other way, they realized. And to have come so far already just throw it all away would be worse than to not have tried at all. Perhaps they had jumped from the frying pan into the fire for all they could tell, but at least now it seemed they had a chance to survive.


	3. Chapter 3

The clash of metal against metal barely registered to Kazia's ears, too busy deflecting the blow away from herself, the swiftness of its passage causing a rush of air to brush past her cheek. Pushing forward without hesitation, she attempted to unbalance her antagonist by sweeping their legs. They were too experienced, however, neatly sidestepping, and before Kazia could recover, she felt the cool metal of a dagger pressed against her neck.

"Better, but you're still holding back." Her first's voice held a note of approval. "You will not have that luxury in a life or death situation, however." Releasing the girl, she took a long step back, never letting her eyes leave Kazia's for a moment.

Growing up in the far northern territory of Azgeda, Nova was trained to be constantly on the lookout for nomadic bandits who raided isolated villages and outposts, and having a few close calls due to the large beasts that roamed the frozen wasteland known generally as pauna added to her long list of life experiences in so short a time, the woman was astutely observant, always looking for a way to find and exploit her opponent's weaknesses.

Early on in her military career, Nova had served for three years as a part of one of the top pauna hunting divisions of Azgeda, earning six kills to her credit, as well as a few nasty scars from her various engagements. Tales of her accomplishments caught the ear of a man named Braxton, one of Nia's top generals, and soon she was approached with an offer she couldn't refuse.

For the next two years, she served as a captain of a division under Braxton, fighting in the border wars between Podakru and Azkru, before a tentative peace was reached when Azgeda decimated Podakru forces. Through a move of strategic brilliance performed by General Ryker, whom Nia had ordered to the front in Braxton's stead when the other general was mortally wounded in combat, he crushed the opposing forces with such precision, that Podakru was nearly defenceless, allowing Ryker to spearhead the campaign that led to the eventual capture and execution of Podakru's clan leader.

While she had learned much about discipline and war in that time, it wasn't until she was reassigned to the eastern border as part of the force sent to deal with the persistent bandit problem that she finally understood that there were situations in which she had to use whatever means were at her disposal in order to surpass the obstacle. It didn't matter what it was, as long as it worked.

"Again." Nova had barely finished the word before her second rushed forward with a yell, trying to catch her off guard. Without batting an eye, Nova once again sidestepped her charge, easily deflecting the swipe of the blade aimed at her left side. Not even allowing the girl to adjust her front, Nova brought up her right leg in a calculated move, knocking Kazia onto the snow covered ground with a controlled kick. Once again she levelled the blade at the girl's face. "Focus on what you're doing, I could see you coming a mile away."

Though she tried to school the emotion out of her features, Nova could easily read the fire in her second's eyes. She was frustrated, no doubt by her inability to make any headway in their latest sparring match. But for only having trained for less than six months, Nova knew that compared to most other seconds only just beginning, though they had started younger in addition to growing up in the life, most were not nearly as quick to learn and adapt as she was.

She had seen the not so subtle glances that Kazia would often cast the other seconds, and knew the girl yearned to achieve their level of experience, however accomplishing that in so short a time was impossible. And it was when she became impatient and tried to rush her training that she made the most mistakes. She needed to work on controlling her temper more, and the rest would come easier.

To the girl's credit, however, though anger danced in her eyes, she held herself back, redoubling her efforts to find a crack in Nova's guard. Nova knew her own weaknesses, however, and understood that no matter how much you trained, there would always be something. Whether or not it was a slip of the guard or a lucky hit, even the best swordsman could be defeated. That was precisely why they trained, in order that they might account for every little feint, counter, and blind spot, because in the real fight, it would always be the difference between life and death.

Kazia changed her game plan. Instead of trying to wildly charge her first when she found that it wasn't working, she switched to matching Nova strike for strike, their blades gleaming in the torchlight as the blows rang out into the night. Her mind had greatly improved at split-second decisions, and she found herself not having to even think before she had moved her sword arm to block Nova's counter.

But her first still had age and experience on her, and as she sped up her movements, Kazia found she had more and more difficulty keeping up, until finally Nova penetrated her guard, getting close enough to mark a kill strike against the side of her neck, but stopping just before the blade pierced the skin.

Backing off after a moment, Nova nodded. "Good. That's will be all for tonight, go get cleaned up and get some food. Then report for guard duty at the south wall."

Kazia nodded wordlessly, being out of breath, before heading to the tent the seconds shared to change into something warmer. The nights were becoming colder than ever, and standing guard for any length of time required one to be dressed appropriately so as not to freeze your face or fingers off.

* * *

 

Entering the tent half expecting it to be empty, she was mildly surprised to see Erika fiddling around with her own pack. Looking up, the dark-haired girl made a noise of appreciation at seeing her. "How was training?"

"Nova's been driving me into the ground. I don't know how I survive some days." Kazia sighed. "I just can't seem to get the hang of it all." She threw up her hands in a dramatic display before crouching down to dig through her own bag for her heavy jacket.

Erika cocked her head at Kazia momentarily, before bursting into laughter. When the other girl quirked an eyebrow in question, she merely clutched her sides, laughing even harder. Finally wiping away the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes, she explained. "Kaz, you're like really good for only having trained for a few months. I mean, Nova's an amazing swordswoman, but I've seen when you spar with her and it's not half bad. Most of the other seconds would kill to be able to train with her. You still have a long way to go yet, but you'll be just fine."

The other girl threw her head back and sighed. "I guess." A low rumble sounded from her stomach, causing both girls to chuckle, any remaining discussion of training now forgotten.

"Suppose that means you're hungry then?" Erika smirked.

"I don't think I've eaten all day." Kazia mourned longingly. "Nova said to get something to eat before I go on guard duty tonight."

"Well, you should listen." The other girl nodded her head matter-of-factly. "Besides, I haven't eaten yet either, so we might as well go together."

Kazia smiled. "As you wish." Without wasting any more time, they left the tent, quickly following the heavenly smell of food wafting over from the cooking fires.

* * *

 

Matthew wiped his hands dry on one of the clean cloths lying on the small table in the healer's tent. He had just finished sewing up a rather large gash sustained by a warrior who had slipped climbing up his tree blind, and cut his leg on a branch when he fell.

It was easy to fall back into the familiar motion of tending to sick and injured patients he found. Though the wounds were quite different from the ones he was used to treating back on the Ark, these in a way were simpler, yet more dangerous than when he had been an apprentice there.

Injuries were more basic, usually limited to mild cuts sustained from sparring to broken bones caused by a multitude of reasons, but they were somewhat more difficult in that he didn't have a computer telling him whether or not the wound was already contaminated, or if that broken rib had perforated a lung or some other organ, causing internal bleeding that wouldn't be seen until it was too late. He was starting to become more comfortable in trusting what he could see and feel as he learned more from Sasha about symptoms and their treatment, as well as what plants and herbs to mix together to form a certain paste or ointment with which to treat rashes or open lacerations or brew to treat common sicknesses.

What he had learned from the Ark he did put to good use, continually expanding his knowledge on various techniques that Sasha would teach him, and usually staying in her good favor through his rapid ability to understand and put into practice what she showed after only seeing it a couple of times.

She constantly praised his neat stitch work, muttering to herself that if her other apprentices were half as good she wouldn't have to go back and redo the atrocities they had committed. But she exaggerated some, Matthew thought. The others weren't that bad, and with proper time and effort, he was sure they would be able to achieve more precise stitching.

It had been a rather long day, and though Matthew didn't feel tired, Sasha shooed him out anyway, ignoring his protests that he would rather stay and work, firmly demanding that he eat something, banning him from returning for at least two candle marks.

With a sigh of resignation, Matthew finally gave in, going to look for his friends who might hopefully be taking their supper near one of the cooking fires.

On the way, he caught sight of Flint, who immediately fell into step beside him, having just come back from a hunt with his first, Aaron, as well as a handful of other warriors and their seconds. The boy's face was flush with excitement from the chase. Barely a greeting and he was already rambling on about the deer they had been tracking, as well as the close call with a panther that had in turn been stalking them.

He would turn out to be a skilled tracker, Matthew thought. Having a penchant for shadowing anything of interest, whether human or animal, as well as an uncanny ability to somehow avoid rustling dry leaves or breaking the sticks and twigs that littered the forest floor, it wouldn't be long before Aaron sent him to finish his training with an experienced assassin.

Matthew himself aspired to receive his markings as a healer in addition to that of a warrior, using much of his spare time to memorize the many plants and herbs that had been catalogued over the years by Azgedan healers. Some held similarities with their pre-faya ancestors, but most had changed both physical, medicinal, and for a few, poisonous characteristics over the course of almost a century and a more than lethal dose of radiation.

Having acquired two bowls filled with warm stew, the boys searched next for a comfortable place to sit and eat their dinner. Flint soon spied Kazia waving them over from where she and Erika were seated with a couple of the Azgeda seconds. Wasting no time, they flopped down on either side of the girls. Matthew felt a newfound appreciation for food as soon as he shovelled some of the warmth into his mouth, almost moaning at the delicious taste. Preferring to savour his food, he was content to just listen to the easy conversation carried on by the other seconds.

It was probably because he wasn't distracted by the chatter around him that Matthew was able to spot Miren, one of their fellow Arkers, a short distance away. The girl seemed upset, and even in the low light of the fires, the bruises on her face were quite apparent. He frowned. Every second knew of Victor, a man who was often abusive to those who had the misfortune of being chosen by him, all the while calling it training. While those originally from the Ark were for the most part well treated, some even thriving on the instruction provided by their firsts, Miren was unlucky enough to have been chosen by the man, who likely enjoyed having someone to smack around, especially when he was drunk.

Matthew felt sorry for the poor girl. She wasn't really cut out to be a warrior, having much more difficulty picking up basic fighting techniques compared to the others, but at the same time, she didn't deserve to be treated like she was. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything they could do for her, she would just have to bear it out until they all received their warrior marks.

"You should go talk to her." He turned his head to see Kazia looking at him with an encouraging smile. Caught off guard by her brilliant icy blue eyes, he realized a bit belatedly that she had been watching him observe Miren, albeit a little less obviously. She had probably seen the way he had looked at her, and the first thought that ran through his mind being she thought that he was interested in the other girl.

The opposite was true, however, as ever since their forced imprisonment when Kazia had captured his attention, a little here and there, his interest increasing over the time they spent together, he had hardly any thoughts, let alone eyes, for other females.

Sometimes Matthew would catch himself staring a little longer than necessary, trying to figure out what she had about her that peaked his curiosity, and slowly coming to terms with the fact that it was practically every little thing about her. From the way she would look at their fellow comrades with such care and compassion, to the stubbornness in her form when she stood her ground during combat or when in a heated argument. The only thing that saved him from many an awkward moment was her obliviousness to the whole situation.

Bellatrix was one of the few that picked up early on but didn't do much more than quirk an eyebrow at some of the stunts he pulled trying to grab her attention. Flint wasn't old enough to understand, the boy being more interested in hunting and learning to fight anyway to be distracted by girls, or so Matthew thought.

The sound of his name being spoken brought Matthew back to reality. He ducked his head when he realized Kazia had cocked her head at him, not understanding why he hadn't responded. "I'll see if she wants to come join us." The nod he received in return being enough of a confirmation to send him on his way.

Approaching the other girl, Matthew noted the way she was constantly darting her eyes all around her nervously as if waiting for someone to attack her. "Hey, Miren," He caught her attention with a wave. "Do you want to sit with us?" Gesturing to the rest of the group behind him, he smiled warmly in invitation.

Miren looked a little surprised, but after a moment broke out into a toothy grin, obviously happy that she had somewhere to go.

Going back to the rest of the group, Matthew sat down again, letting himself be sucked into the conversation, making the odd comment here and there. The entire time he stayed however, he kept on eye on Miren. It pleased him to see her start to relax for what was probably the first time in a while, and he only hoped that she would be able to make it through the next few months until her freedom-literally-was achieved.


	4. Review

From the very beginning, when she had been assigned one of the sky fallen as her second, Nova had known in the back of her mind that she would be called on to give an account as to their progress, or lack thereof. Therefore, it came as no surprise when Queen Nia gave summons to all those who had taken from among the sky children, to appear in her court when the moon waxed new again, which, by the time she received the words from the messenger, was in a week's time.

It was lucky that they had already been returning from Nipis, one of the major pauna hunting outposts situated in the southeastern territory of Ontari, whose namesake just happened to be the queen's adopted daughter. The messenger met them on the main highway, when there was still four day's travel ahead. As such, Nova spurred them onward, all thought of a relaxed pace on their return forgotten, their only concern being to reach the queen and give a report.

When Kazia casually inquired as to the nature of the summons, in a calm yet knowing manner, Nova realized that she probably had a good, though partial, idea as to the reason. Since there was no reason for her to hide anything, she told her the truth. While it was highly unusual for children and more so for adults from other clans to be assimilated into Azgedan ranks, it was unheard of for any to have taken in those as old and yet untrained as the former Arkers. And since the queen had been so gracious towards them, as Nova worded it, allowing precious time and resources to be exhausted in their care and training, she now demanded a review to be made concerning their growth and development.

Those who passed would be allowed to continue their training, and when the time came to receive their warrior marks, they would be called again, as is the custom, to renew their vows, this time as true warriors of Azgeda. However, if one did not pass review, the queen would see no further use for them, and as such would have their fight ended, usually by their own firsts.

Kazia's brow furrowed upon hearing the last part but said nothing. Though she was only mildly surprised, having seen and experienced much of the hardship that came with being an Azgedan citizen, let alone a warrior, she was appalled by the fact that those who trained their seconds might be called on to end their flame. She tried to imagine Nova being given the order to kill her, and the look in her eyes when she carried out the command and wondered if she would be pained to do so. Whether she was or not mattered little though, an order from your queen must be obeyed on pain of your own death.

Trying to push those imaginings from her mind, Kazia's next thought was on those of her own kind, the ones who had been with her from the start, mentally calculating and tallying up those whom had the best chance to pass, and those who she most likely would never see again after the week was done.

The anger and grief that sprouted from within her almost left her gasping for air. While it was true that there were those among the general population unfit to be warriors through permanent injury from battle, or perhaps an accident, they would not put down their own flesh and blood for it, though they would be treated as lesser because of their circumstances. Only those who had been born apart constantly had to fight for the privilege to live, many having accomplished certain feats of bravery and prowess that helped in safeguarding them from being called into question by their superiors.

But then again, Kazia reasoned, life was still better compared to that on the Ark. Down here, though stepping out of line was punishable by whipping, being placed in stocks, or branding, depending on the severity of the crime, on the Ark you would be floated for even the most trivial of crimes, all in the name of preserving resources for as long as possible. Any possible danger to society, any element of uprising or revolt had to be eradicated in order to prevent the breakdown of the precious system they had put in place over their years in solitude from their true home.

So here, though life was harsh and unforgiving, it was still bearable. Though Kazia strongly believed that it could be better. She had heard tales and stories from passing traders and merchants from the allies of Azgeda who were allowed admission for the pursuit of business. Azgeda was considered by every other clan to be the harshest and most cruel of any in their history. In the other clans, though life was different, and presented its own set of challenges, the people lived more lenient lives, though that only meant they did not have to deal with the brutal and bloodthirsty ways the former leaders of Azgeda had set for their own.

There were many unjustifiable things that had already taken place and would continue if someone did not step in and change it. And as she rode with her face to the wind, her ability to speak being taken away by the lump in her throat, Kazia vowed even more fiercely than before, to do all in her power, no matter how long it took, to instill that change. Though she had not been born here, to leave was not an option, and she was well aware of the fact that these were her people now just as much as one natural born. As such, it was her responsibility as a warrior in training to uphold and protect her people from harm, no matter what form, from within or without.

* * *

 

Nova glanced at her second every now and then as they rode. After she had received the information of what awaited the sky fallen when they returned to the capitol, Kazia had become oddly silent, and her countenance was hard. She made the decision to tell the girl the truth in part because she knew it was better to come to terms with the facts when no one was around to see any emotions that might break the surface unbidden.

The girl, though young, was strong in much more than physical prowess. It had taken several months, but she had opened up enough to brush over the circumstances that caused her parent's deaths. Nova knew more or less from Kazia as well as the others what life was like among the stars, but she was also interested in their adaptability to a new way of life, one different, yet still harsh. What she saw from some impressed her greatly, though she would never show it so openly. They worked hard, striving each and every day with a tireless determination to live, despite the odds being ever against them, at times purposely so.

Their flames burned bright and strong, as they took courage and comfort from among one another, and she had no doubt that in time they would accomplish great things. However, she also realized they were a wild card, coming from and being thrust into unique circumstances. Having others of their own kind outside of Azgeda would not help matters either if they so desired at any point to make contact.

Nova did not allow herself to continue that train of thought. Though pragmatic, she was not without emotion. She held a measure of pride for her second that she never thought she would hold for any other, not since her former one had been taken away and executed so many years ago.

Koba had been young and bright, a visionary who still had both feet to the ground. It was his passion, however, that brought him to naught. His gathering together of certain dissenters who were loyal to the idea of a better future garnered enough attention from those in Nia's court that they had sent spies to look for any reason to remove his presence as a threat to the throne.

A private meeting, in the dead of night. They were making the final preparations for the coup when they were set upon by the queen's elite warriors, who bound and dragged them before the queen herself for judgment. Nova was brought in for questioning during this and was made to stand beside Koba as Nia inquired if she had had any knowledge or part in the plot against her life.

With eyes as cold as stone she swore upon her own life that she had naught an idea of his plan, stating that though yes she had indeed trained him, what he did after receiving his marks was not of her concern, thus cutting all emotional ties she may have had.

Nia had studied her for a long while, trying to see if she could read a hint of betrayal upon her features. Finding none, she then turned her attention to Koba, who looked exceedingly distressed. He knew that his life was forfeit, though he glanced at Nova, hope written in his eyes as if maybe he would be allowed to live after what he had done. She did not return his gaze. When Nia commanded one of her guards to give Nova a dagger, she hesitated not when she was ordered to end his flame. Turning to face to Koba, she drew the dagger across his throat in a swift motion, watching as he stumbled back, clutching at his neck in shock and disbelief, before falling to the ground, the life already having left his eyes.

When it was done, the remainder of the traitors were crucified just outside the palace walls, with Koba's body being strung up at the forefront, his head decapitated and staked for all the see, as the main perpetrator of the crime. But before Nova had left the throne room, her queen had caught her eye, and nodded to her. Nova returned the gesture, her features perfectly schooled, before slipping away into the night.

* * *

 

The next four days flew by quickly, and when they arrived back in the capitol Kazia made time in between her duties to visit and speak with each of her fellow compatriots, appraising each and every one of them in turn, though she stayed somewhat withdrawn from them as a whole. Being one of those closest to her, Matthew picked up on the change in her behavior, and the same night when they were finally alone, he confronted her and asked what was wrong. Bellatrix and Flint had not yet arrived in the capitol, and Erika had been recently assigned to the main outpost in Ebec, so he was the only one she could even think of speaking too.

Kazia licked her lips and stared at the pitcher of water on the nightstand for a long moment before answering. "Lobo, Miren, Kailee, Hugo, and Phyllis aren't going to survive the review."

Matthew was the picture of shock, his mouth dropping open in astonishment. "What do you mean, they're not going to survive?" His voice had gone from concern to confusion and incredulity.

After explaining what Nova had told her, along with her own assessments of their people, Matthew was greatly troubled. "How can they do that? It's not right, why kill a few just because they didn't make the cut?"

"Because of who we are. Because we weren't born in Azgeda." Kazia calmly explained, though on the inside her mind was in turmoil, and she could see Matthew was no better.

Dropping his head in his hands, Matthew closed his eyes and tried to not to let his emotions overwhelm him. He had no idea of how to prevent what seemed inevitable, that some of their number would be cut down once again, without even having obtained their freedom. "Is there any way, any way at all, that we can help them pass?"

Kazia shook her head, her gaze kept straight, staring at the cracks in the plaster of the wall. "Their firsts have prepared their reports by now, based on their previous performances in training, combat, hunting, etc. It would be impossible to change this with less than two days before the review."

Matthew clenched his hands as hard as he could into fists. It was exceedingly difficult to sit and speak of this, and yet not be able to do a single thing. When he spoke next, his voice was low, filled with conviction. "We can't tell them." When Kazia whipped her head around to stare at him, he attempted to clarify. "Telling them would only make it worse in the end. We can't save everyone, Kaz, you can't save everyone. Sacrifices must be made, but we need to look at the bigger picture. The best thing that we can do is ensure they don't die in vain."

Kazia just stared at him, a mixture of emotions flying across her face. Here, in private, she let her walls fall. Here, where no one else could see, she could let her feelings show. In a split second, she had cleared the distance, burying her head in Matthew's shoulder, allowing the silent sobs to rack her body, while he wrapped his arms around her in comfort.

Silent tears slid down Matthew's face as he held her, as they mourned those they had lost, and who were yet to lose. The burden they had shouldered just increased tenfold, the knowledge that no one else among them knew weighing heavily upon their minds.

* * *

 

Bellatrix and Flint were among the last to arrive, and as such, they had no chance to speak with any of their fellow peers before the review was to take place. When the time came, unlike so the other fancy ceremonies that Nia was wont to hold, this was swift and to the point. They were ushered into her court, five at a time, each with their respective first, who would then be called to give an account of their charge. And just as Kazia had predicted, a few of their number did not make the cut. What was surprising, however, was the fact that though she had called exactly those who would fail, Miren was the only one who succeeded in passing, though it was merely by the skin of her teeth.

She knew this because she was in the same room when Miren's review took place, having been placed in the same grouping. Though greatly surprised, she dared not risk a glance, especially in so public a position, lest she be called into question for it. Her own review was perhaps the best among those in her group, Nova stating her accomplishment with a hint of pride in her voice, as she recalled their last pauna hunt together against a giant mutated panther, an albino with fiery red eyes, that had been terrorizing one of the smaller villages for some weeks.

They had tracked the beast through the snow for days with a handful of other warriors and their seconds before they found the cave where it took its kills, a mixture of human as well as various livestock and wild prey animals. The scent of blood was still fresh in her nostrils, and she could almost taste the copper tang that hung in the air.

A feral scream emanated from the furthest reaches of the cave they were in, and from the inky blackness a bolt of white shot forth, taking down one of the warriors who had stood barely three feet away from Kazia. It didn't take more than a few moments for the beast to rip the man to shreds, before setting its sights on one of the younger seconds.

In the span of time it took for the panther to change targets, Kazia was already flinging herself upon the beast, without regard for life or limb, and looking back on it now, she felt very foolish at having done so. But it had worked. The cat, though more than twice the size of any other she had seen, standing at least four feet tall at the shoulders, and weighing much more than she did, was caught off guard by her sudden attack.

They rolled together over the stone floor, Kazia wrapping her arms and legs around the neck and midriff of the beast in an unrelenting grip. Gritting her teeth and squeezing as hard as she could, she hid her face behind the cat's head, trying to shield herself from the wickedly sharp teeth and claws the panther sported.

She could hear shouts around her, and though only a few seconds past, it felt like a thousand years, as the cat thrashed and flailed about, angry as hell and trying to kill anything and everything unfortunate enough to come within its reach. The weight was crushing her down, and her grip was slowly being wrenched apart as the animal violently writhed about when all of the sudden a tremendous shudder went through it. A high pitched screech rang out, filled with pain and rage. Its jerking began to subside, the ensuing screams slowly dying down into bloody gurgles as the life drained from the beast. An eternity went by before the panther's struggles slowly subsided, and with one last shudder faded away into nothing.

As Kazia relaxed her death grip on the animal, she felt herself being hauled out from under the great pauna and onto her feet. Turning her head she saw Nova's eyes roving her form, checking for injury. Satisfied there was none, her first let a small smile grace her features. Then, without warning, she cuffed Kazia up the side of the head. "Branwada, whatever possessed you to tackle that thing?"

Kazia shrugged weakly, "I wanted to prevent further casualties." her words though worded carefully held an underlying tone to them, one which Nova picked up on, but did not press further. Now was not the time.

"Congratulations, now you have the honour of telling everyone in that village that the pauna has been slain." Nova exclaimed, clapping her on the back. "Also, you can help skin that thing."

Later, when they made their way back to the village, the second that Kazia had saved pulled her aside and thanked her.

"You didn't have to do what you did." Fitz said gratefully, yet at that same time appearing despondent.

"I did though." Came the firm reply.

They walked in silence for a few moments. "I should have died." He murmured quietly, and Kazia barely caught the words, almost as if she wasn't meant to hear them.

"If anyone dies, it will most likely be me." Kazia returned lowly.

Fitz laughed bitterly. "No, not you. Not with what you just did. You haven't heard the other seconds speak, but I have. They watch you. They've seen what you've done, and the way you act. It would be wise to tread with caution among your superiors. I cannot say why, but I think you already know."

Kazia hummed in reply, in all appearances completely relaxed, yet inside she was fully alert, drinking in the unspoken information. There was no need to speak, to respond, so she held her tongue, waiting to see if the boy would play his hand. But the minutes passed on in shared silence as they trudged along behind the rest of the group.

When Fitz next opened his mouth, Kazia was not expecting what came out. Yet she took it in silence, filing away the information he gave. It wasn't difficult to understand the amount of trust he had given her, knowing that what he shared was never to pass from her lips.

The villagers had welcomed them with open arms upon their return, preparing a great feast for the victors, and food and drink flowed endlessly through the night, the memory of it still fuzzy in Kazia's mind even at present. She only remembers that she was lifted up multiple times that night, and carried over the shoulders of the villagers as they raised their cups to the sky amid exuberant shouts of glee and merriment.

Nova had explained when they were both tipsy that because she was sporting the head of the great cat, even though she didn't kill it, her feat of what Nova termed stupid bravery had garnered their affection because she had halfway strangled the life out of the beast.

Kazia merely shook her head at that though, in no way believing she had helped as much as her first proclaimed. It took the ensuing affirmation of a couple of the other warriors of their party for her to accept the fact, and though she was still somewhat incredulous, she dropped the issue, deeming it unnecessary to continue.

Upon her return to reality, Kazia found that she had pretty well missed the rest of the reports from the other firsts in her group, but it seemed that the queen was pleased with them overall, and declared as much, before dismissing them to continue their training, stating that since there were those who showed promise, she looked forward to seeing them receive their marks. Whether it was intended to be a compliment or a threat was difficult to tell, especially when Nia made a point of locking gazes with Kazia, who deferred after a moment, not wishing to spark a confrontation at this point.

They had been the last group, and after they had finished, everyone had already scattered about inside the capitol, some using their newly granted free time from training and duty for the day to celebrate the small milestone as well as to mourn those who had failed the test, and as such paid with their lives. Many were reluctant at first to separate, wishing to stick together in their grief, but they had been broken up and shooed away by Bellatrix and Matthew, who deemed it better that they were not seen too close to one another.

When Kazia and the others exited the palace, she practically made a beeline for Bellatrix, grasping her arm in greeting, and smiling when the other girl reciprocated the gesture. "You are well I see."

Bellatrix gave a woeful smile. "Not as well as some."

Kazia nodded, knowing full well who she was speaking of. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw Miren looking at them a bit oddly, before she slipped in between the ever moving pedestrians in the street, and disappearing around a corner. She frowned to herself. "Come with me." She said to Bellatrix.

It didn't take long before they had reached one of their secure locations. This one was unlike their others, being that they stood on the top of one of the tallest buildings in the capitol, where they had no fear of prying eyes or listening ears.

"What has happened, Kazia?" Bellatrix inquired warily, already building up her walls for what was to come.

"Miren wasn't supposed to pass the review." Kazia stated matter-of-factly, without any shred of emotion.

The other girl's eyes narrowed. She recognized the signs, when her friend was the most withdrawn was when she had the most on her mind, and feelings were not a good sign. "What do you mean?" Pushing for an explanation, she walked around so that she was facing the other girl.

"I mean exactly that. Nova told me that when those born outside of Azgeda come up for review, if they fail based on previous experience and engagements, they are culled since they are seen as a waste of resources." When Kazia met Bellatrix's eyes, she did not expect to see the same understanding that graced the girl's countenance.

"Abner told me that some of my former friends would probably not pass the test, but that he had no concerns for my well being." The dark skinned girl confessed after a moment sorrowfully.

Her first, Abner, was one of the leading tacticians among Nia's council, and having discovered her gift for strategy early on, had been training her so that she might eventually earn her marks and acquire a position as a front line strategist.

Kazia nodded solemnly before continuing. "After we got back, I spoke with each of the others to see who had the best chance to pass, and who did not." Her voice lowered, grief coloring it around the edges. "And of the five names that I gathered during my assessment, four of them did not make it."

"And Miren did?" Bellatrix murmured.

"She wasn't supposed to." Kazia choked out.

Bellatrix didn't say a word, but merely reached out and pulled the other girl in for a hug, holding her until the moment had passed. She let go when Kazia pulled back after a bit, the girl bent on finishing her thought.

"Put a watch on her, take anyone you trust and find out what happened, because I heard her review, and it wasn't anything like what I saw when I spoke with her. She was nervous like she knew something was up, but I only thought that was because it was her nature."

"I'd rather think it was because of Victor." Bellatrix put in.

Kazia stiffened. "That's it." Turning about, she began pacing back and forth, her mind going a million different places at once, trying to put together a theory or two on what was going on. She halted in mid-stride, mentally reminding herself not to get carried away before she had all the facts. "Find out whatever you can about Victor and Miren's connection to him. I want to know what's going on."

Her voice now held a tone of authority about it, one which Bellatrix was not slow to pick up on. Straightening, she nodded in a clipped manner, making a list of people in her head of which she could send for the job. It was a short list, a quick selection.

"Matthew."

"No."

"He's the only one who could get close enough."

"It would be too suspicious."

"You and I both know it's the perfect opportunity. Why are you so against it?" Bellatrix came off a little more brusque than she intended, but she had spoken true. Seeing her friend at a loss for words, her face softened a bit. "You like him, don't you?"

Kazia's face told her all she needed to know. "Then you know why this has to be done. So that we don't have to live in fear of the future. Like it or not, our lives are constantly filled with danger. And this will be a cakewalk for Matthew. At least he won't be fending off bandits or wrestling with wild pauna." Bellatrix finished with a teasing lilt, arching an eyebrow.

Kazia felt herself redden. "Who told you about that?" She demanded, but Bellatrix was not having any of it.

"It's my job to know." She said, laughing at her friend's disgruntled features.

"Very well. Matthew it is." Kazia nodded, any trace of reluctance now gone from her features.

"However long it takes, he'll find out the truth, you can count on that." Bellatrix assured her.

"I know I can. And I know that I can depend on you as well." Kazia grasped her friend's arm in appreciation.

"Now, what do you say we get off this roof. The view is great but the wind is bitter, and I would rather my ears stay where they are. Besides, I haven't eaten all day."

"Fine, we can go get food, you don't have to be so subtle about it." Kazia mocked.

"I wasn't being subtle at all."

"I know."

"Shall we go?"

"Let's."


	5. Troubled Mind

He could feel the rush of the blood in his veins, as his heart beat faster in order to compensate for his body's swift movements. The pounding behind his ears spoke of his excitement for the hunt. As he threaded his way through the streets of the capitol, taking great pains to ensure he was not seen by his quarry, Flint almost let out a smile. One of the most enjoyable parts of his training with Aaron was when his first would take him out hunting. The boy had taken to tracking and trailing like a fish to water, learning how to move with uncanny silence through the forest, and creep upon his prey without letting them catch wind of his presence.

Though others might succumb to impatience while waiting for a deer to come wandering up the trail, or a mountain cat to show itself from its cave high on treacherous rocks, Flint lived for this. He knew he could wait for days just to have the chance, in the meantime entertaining himself by coming up with different scenarios on how to capture and or kill his target.

His formerly pale and lanky form had filled out quite a bit with proper nutrition and the hard training Aaron had imposed upon him. There was many a day when he would rise from his cot, barely able to move from the stiffness that settled in his muscles during the night. It seemed that he was constantly sore from one thing or another after a heavy training session, and more often than not his chest would be covered in red marks from the administration of hard blows.

His skin had freckled and darkened as well with constant exposure to the elements, and he wore his hair extremely close-cropped on the sides, only allowing the hair of his crown to grow longer, and this too was kept fairly short upon the command of his first. Aaron had instilled into the boy from the start to keep his hair short and well groomed, this reasoning stretching to include the proper maintenance of his clothing and all his weapons.

"One who does not keep themselves in order opens themselves to attack from any direction. If an enemy grabs onto you, and their hand catches onto your hair if it is long and not tied back, they will bring your head down upon their blade without hesitation, thus ending your fight." He had explained this to Flint once, but once was enough for the boy.

From their time in the dungeons, each of the sky fallen now sported an impressive amount of scarring across their bodies, though much of this was covered by the clothing that they wore. Flint himself had crisscrossing scars running down both of his arms, from the time when Cronas' apprentice Sonnie had taken a pair of twin knives and with great cruelty had carved the lines into his skin over the course of several hours, the baby-faced psychopath dragging out the pain as long as he could. It was around this time that Flint had contracted a severe fever, one which had him delirious for days, at times barely hanging onto life.

One time the boy decided to discard his armor after training one day in favor of flaunting the scars in front of several pretty girls who lived near the outpost he had been stationed at with his first. When Aaron caught wind of what Flint had done, he had taken the boy out in private and given him a sound thrashing.

"A warrior does not boast of the story that is written upon him. To do so would be inviting the unseen attack of a rival deeming to destroy either his pride or take his life." Needless to say, Flint never repeated his mistake.

The abrupt disappearance of his quarry from sight as they disappeared through a doorway caused the boy to pause in his movement. The two people he was shadowing had just entered one of a handful of taverns scattered throughout the city. His task had just become more challenging, but it caused him no irritation. If there was a will, there was a way.

When Bellatrix had pulled him aside the same day they had passed their review and told him to keep an eye on Miren for the foreseeable future, he was somewhat confused, not understanding why, but one look from her had him guessing that something was up. She also made it very clear that he was not to be seen by her, or anyone she was with.

It didn't bother Flint that he hadn't been supplied with much information. He trusted both girls and knew that there was a good reason behind what they wanted him to do. An order from Bellatrix was an order from Kazia as well, the hierarchy was clear. Even some of the other seconds that trained regularly with them had started to show slight deference at times to the perceived authority that emanated from the two.

Matthew was different, he didn't command the same aura, but he was still an important piece of the puzzle in his own right, with an ever-increasing knowledge of medicine and healing herbs at his disposal. His insight in matters helped when they needed a male mind to process problems and come up with solutions, being the most levelheaded out of the three.

Looking around, the boy espied an alleyway that separated the bar from the building next to it. He was tempted to just make his way over and slip into the shadows but held back instead. Just because he was the one doing the shadowing didn't mean that he could afford to make himself look suspicious.

Changing his stance to that of one without a clear direction in mind, he slowly ambled over to the alleyway and leaned against building adjacent to the bar. Reaching inside of his pouch, he pulled out a piece of dried meat and began to slowly chew on it, his eyes subtly scanning his surroundings.

After a few minutes had passed, and a few more pieces of meat eaten, the boy licked his lips, tasting the salt that lingered upon them. He brought up his hood low over his head and made his way inside the bar.

A quick glance around him showed his targets, Matthew and Miren respectively, sitting at one of the tables nearer the far wall. Choosing a table a few paces away, he sat facing away from them, straining his ears to pick up on their conversation. When the barmaid walked up and asked what he wanted, he made a gesture of tipping something down his throat. She got the message, hustling away to pour a draft.

* * *

 

Miren knew she was weaker than the others that had come down with her, but she hated those times when nobody was around to help, especially when she was training under the supervision of her first. She had known from the beginning, even before the whispers of the other seconds had reached her ears, of the cruel and sadistic tendencies that Victor displayed. Oh how she hated his sickly sweet smile, and the drunken stench that his breath always seemed to be whenever he hovered too close.

That he was a good swordsman there was no doubt, as even when he was somewhat tipsy or hungover he could still give her a sound beating during a spar. Miren, however, had come a long way in her own skill development, able to last longer and longer before being defeated, but it still hurt every time. She learned quickly not to show the pain she was in, knowing that if she did, he would only get irritated and do worse.

They say bad company corrupts good character. She didn't remember where she heard that from, probably something her parents had told her once. But damn if it wasn't true. They were long gone by now, having vanished along with the rest of the adults after they had been captured. Oh how she missed them some nights, her mother's soft heart-shaped face, framed by brown hair that hung down just past her shoulders, while her father's kind smile, accompanied by his gentle yet strong hands that always held her whenever she had a nightmare were always what she reflected on.

She supposed that Victor wouldn't be so bad if it was only him she had to deal with, but enter the twins from hell, namely Ashton and Calix. Identical in every way, both sporting blonde hair and blue eyes, the only noticeable difference being that Ashton had a faint scar that ran down the left side of his forehead and disappeared just before it reached his ear, something he had acquired during a feud between the siblings when they were younger. The other major similarity they shared was the desire to constantly torment her in any way they could come up with.

It had started with rude and suggestive remarks being made just within earshot, all for the purpose of causing her discomfort, and slowly escalated to them sneaking untoward touches when they thought no one was looking. Miren had tried to defend herself, but when she had slapped Calix the one time in public, word of it had reached General Reuben, who just happened to be the boys' father, in addition to being one of Nia's higher-ups, and she had received a severe whipping later that day for her troubles.

Miren wasn't blind, she knew that Victor kept company with the general so that he might enter into his good favor, with the possibly of obtaining a promotion in the process. Being one of Nia's captains only came with so much authority, and Victor being the power hungry mongrel that he was, was willing to use whatever means at his disposal in order to acquire that which he desired.

And while she didn't want any part of the man, she found herself helplessly caught up in his agenda, being dragged deeper as time went on. She quickly began counting the days till she could receive her marks and be rid of him forever. When Kazia had spoken with her before the review, she did her best to put on a brave face, though she feared the other girl could see through her facade. She was scarily good at doing that, and it didn't help that she had had a rather bad day before the older girl had come to see her.

Oh, how she wished she had the confidence the others displayed, and she was envious that they were able to enjoy their lives without fearing punishment every day, for even the slightest misstep, or on a whim from their first.

Matthew though, he was her saving grace, even if he didn't know it. He was strong and quiet, having an easygoing manner about him that made her feel something she had never felt before about anyone. She ached whenever she saw him smile, finding herself wishing that she could be the reason for it, and remembering with fondness the time he had asked her to sit with him back when they were newly minted seconds.

That was many months ago, however, and over time and in her situation she had given up any hope of ever being able to have a chance with him, so it was with great surprise and shock that she stared at Matthew when he approached her a couple of days after the review.

"Earth to Miren," He repeated, waving a hand in front of her face.

Snapping out of her daze, Miren closed her gaping mouth, unable to hold back the smile that tugged upward on her lips. "Sorry, what were you saying?" She asked somewhat breathlessly.

Matthew chuckled at her. "I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch if you're free." He reached up and scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I know it's been a while since we last spoke, it's a busy life and all what with training and duties, sooo--"

"Yes." The one-word reply stopped him in his tracks as he stared at Miren.

"Really?"

Miren rolled her eyes, smirking. "Of course. And you're right, it has been a while. I know just the place too." Turning, she headed down the street to one of the bars in the city, Matthew wasting no time in following.

"How are you doing?" The question caught her off guard for a moment, and Miren panicked slightly, thinking that Matthew had somehow gotten wind of what was going on between her and her first.

"What do you mean?" She let a tinge of curiosity to color her words.

"The review."

Oh, that's what he meant. Inwardly Miren felt relief flood her insides upon knowing her secret was safe. "Honestly, I had no idea that was going to happen. They're all gone." Her voice lowered in sadness upon realizing she would never see four of their own again. "I don't get it. I don't get why this happened. Nia said that--"

"Shhh!" An elbow to her ribs from Matthew halted her speech. Glancing in his direction, she saw him shake his head as his eyes darted around, seeing if anyone had heard them. "We have to be very careful what we say, and who we say it to." He said in a low voice.

Miren reddened upon realizing what she had almost done. To speak against the queen, even in mere dissent boded severe consequences. She clearly recalled the one time when Tasha had spoken in hushed tones of what had taken place when she was assigned as part of the queen's guard. A warrior who had had a little too much to drink made a remark concerning Nia that resulted in him being dragged to her courtroom by her personal guard. Tasha recounted watching from her position as the man's throat had been viciously ripped out on Nia's command, assuring that he would never speak ill in public of her again.

That right there spoke volumes. If the queen had no qualms about killing one of her own warriors, how much less would she have to execute those not even born in Azgeda. They all had to tread carefully, knowing that what they said and did always had an impact, and it could end up being the wrong one at some point.

After a few moments of observation without any odd glances being sent their way, Matthew and Miren figured that they were in the clear. The girl breathed a sigh of relief, knowing how narrowly she had escaped possible death.

It didn't take long for them to reach the tavern, which lucky for them was nearly deserted given the time of day, and it was unlikely to be frequented until much later in the afternoon. After they had been served their food and left in relative peace, Miren continued where she had left off before, this time in a quieter voice.

"Nia said a lot of things, but she is also power driven, and people like that are willing to commit even the greatest of atrocities in order to reach their goal." Matthew reminded her.

"They didn't deserve to die though." Miren said sadly. Lobo had been kind, like Matthew, but was too soft to lead the life of a warrior demanded by Azgeda. Kailee had lacked the coordination and skill necessary, not to mention the fact that even though she was bubbly and cheerful, she wasn't all there. She hadn't really known Hugo and Phyllis, their paths not having crossed since the day they had been chosen by their firsts.

"A lot of people don't, but it happens nevertheless." Matthew remarked. "Even now, people suffer needlessly at the hands of cruel people like Nia, but can't do anything about it." And then he was looking at her as if he knew, and Miren almost broke down right then and there to him.

She swallowed hard and looked away, her heart beating a wild tattoo against her chest, so loud she was afraid that he would be able to hear it. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, as she debated on whether or not to tell him the truth, but then cold fear settled into the pit of her stomach at the thought of what Victor would do if he found out, and she stopped herself.

"Yea." It sounded lame, but that was the only thing that she could say in that moment. When Miren brought her eyes back to Matthew's, the moment was gone. "You could help them." It was small, a silent cry for help, but when his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, a look of understanding crossed his features momentarily, before it was gone again.

Matthew smiled, and Miren felt her worries slip away, as warmth began to fill her entire being once again. "We can help them." It was an invitation, one which the girl desperately wished to be a part of, but knew she never could.

"I wouldn't know where to start." She murmured, her gaze falling to the floor once again. The presence of a hand upon her shoulder had her looking up, straight into a face that spelled a firm resolution as clear as day.

"Not just you and me. All of us, as a team. We've been through so much, it doesn't make sense for us to wander apart. We need to support one another, build each other up. It's our best chance to survive, and maybe one day, to live."

Miren felt more than saw her vision cloud as tears stung in her eyes. Blinking them away rapidly, and breathing deeply before she could lose her composure, she swallowed. "I'd like that."


	6. Cerberus

Queen Nia resisted the urge to massage her temples in frustration. Her advisors had only finished clearing the courtroom moments ago, no doubt relieved to be away from her presence for the time being. Perhaps it wasn't fair to vent her annoyance upon them, but at this point she didn't care.

All day her subjects had come seeking an audience, and it had just been one thing after another. Even with the proper fear that she had managed to instill into her people, certain of them still had the audacity to make attempts upon her life. Oh well, at least Cronas would have some toys to play with, she mused.

She actually quite enjoyed seeing the look of manic hatred written in their wild eyes as they charged forward at a moment's notice, armed with nothing more than a dagger or a short sword. One had even come at her with a hand sickle, the poor bastard throwing it in a wild swing at her head. Fortunately his aim was poor, and the tool embedded itself harmlessly into the floor just beyond her throne.

Her guards were well trained, she had to give them that. But sometimes even they were surprised by the sheer stupidity of the common folk, and it took them a split second longer to react to the threat before it reached its destination. If nothing else, it alleviated the boredom she so often felt during the time she held audience, listening to their mundane requests.

The creak of the double doors at the end of the room catching her attention, Nia fixed to give whoever came through a piece of her mind for daring to disturb her. The two figures who entered the room however derailed that train of thought as soon as it had come. Bellatrix swept forward with long strides, trailed closely by Ontari, who was clearly pushing herself to keep up with the taller woman's swift pace, irritation shining in her eyes at being forced to do so.

Halting abruptly a respectful distance from the throne, the dark skinned girl bowed humbly before her queen, Ontari quickly following suit, though she put less effort into her show of reverence.

"Bellatrix, Ontari." Nia greeted the young women, who straightened. "What brings the two of you to my court at such a late hour." She questioned, interest piqued. Ontari wasn't one to keep company with the former sky children, let alone Abner's first. The two were famous for not seeing eye to eye on certain matters, Ontari's brash hotheadedness often clashing with Bellatrix's logical reasoning and cool stoicism.

Two and a half years of being in the same company, usually in the war room, drawing up strategies and debating political manoeuvres in which Abner was wont to instruct them both as per Nia's order, had done nothing to solidify even a bond of friendship between the two.

Yet even if they did not get along, at least they were professional when the situation demanded it. They were important pieces of Nia's plan, even if they did not know it yet.

"My Queen, the reports you ordered." Bellatrix extended the papers she held with both hands, inclining her head downward as she did so.

Nia received them gracefully, and leaning back in her throne, began to peruse the chicken scratch her councilmen deemed worthy to be called writing. Squinting slightly, she held the papers at arms' length, the fast fading light accompanied by her aging sight making it somewhat more difficult than it had been in previous years.

Flicking her eyes upward, she saw both girls standing at attention, waiting her next mandate. "Tell me Bellatrix, what has Abner told you concerning the rapid encroachment of nomads along my western border?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ontari's face sour because Nia had not called on her first. Tough, she thought. Ontari may be a competent fighter, and although the queen had in fact been grooming her for a specific role since she was quite young, the girl had yet to learn about diplomacy in politics.

"The intelligence we have gathered from the scouting reports shows that these "nomads" are setting up in formation along a five-mile stretch of ground, their numbers being added to every day." Bellatrix informed her. "Abner believes that it is a poorly concealed move being made by Boudalan with the assistance of Podakru to move against us."

"I see." Nia darted her sharp gaze to Ontari next. "Ontari, if you were on the side of the invaders what strategy would you use to infiltrate Azgedan territory?"

The dark haired girl straightened slightly. "I would split my men into several companies, in order to to strike at the major outposts in the southern territories, so as to lessen the amount of usable land my enemy holds."

"Given the knowledge that Podakru possesses through prior trade relations, it is reasonable to assume that they would move in concert to achieve that goal. However, that only solves half the puzzle." Turning her head slightly, Nia focused on Bellatrix once more. "What does Boudalan have to do with Podakru's insult?"

Her brow furrowed in contemplation, and the strategist took her time in answering. "It doesn't make sense per say. Relations between Azkru and Boudakru have been practically nonexistent the past few years, but it seems a poor choice by Podakru to use Boudalan as their scapegoat. It appears to be a diversion from something else. However, we do not have enough information to speculate much further on the matter.

Nia closed her eyes for a moment. Since Heda Lexa had led an army of Trikru warriors against the Mountain a year ago, and along with the help of the _tek_ from Skaikru, had infiltrated and successfully cleared it, wiping out any last remnant of their mortal nemesis, relations between certain clans of the coalition had become strained. Without the fear of the Maunon to keep them toeing the line so to speak, it now seemed as if the clans were taking up old border disputes once again, among other things.

She could count on one hand the number of clans nearby that always had it out for Azgeda, but would not have done so, fearing the wrath of Heda. Podakru was the kind to act disgruntled, rather willing to talk than to take action. Trade relations had been cut down to the minimum because of the whisperings that had reached the queen's ears when certain of their traders felt no one was around.

Nia had no doubt they would have struck a deal with the nomads, outcasts from every clan, to fight for them, in exchange perhaps for permission to trade, or even live in Poda territory. It would seem as if her plans would have to be put on hold for the foreseeable future, in order to deal with this present threat. If Boudalan was indeed working with Podakru, they would be able to cover more territory, but only slightly. The main contribution they could make would be in the form of armed warriors. However, none had experience with the cold so much as her own warriors, therefore the enemy would be ill matched, especially as they were entering the winter months.

"Return to Abner." She gestured to the dark skinned girl. "Tell him to send spies behind their lines. I want every detail of their plans." Waving in Bellatrix's direction, Nia dismissed her.

Swiftly bowing, Bellatrix wasted no time leaving the courtroom.

Satisfied that Ontari was the only one left in the room, Nia returned her attention to her. The young woman was at ease for the moment, which was good for what the queen had planned. "It is nearing time for the former sky children to take their marks as warriors of Azgeda." She began, indulging her. "I have been hearing consistent reports concerning their progress, and as such, I would hear your opinion on Bellatrix herself. She is after all, one of them with whom you share much time together, albeit not usually of your own accord."

Ontari immediately went on the alert. The casual way in which Nia remarked about the sky children meant that she already knew to an extent of what they were capable of, meaning that Ontari must hide what she felt concerning them. "Bellatrix is well versed in strategy, it seems like she pulls formations and movements out of thin air. Some of them are similar to our own troop organization, yet others are completely foreign."

Nia huffed. "So she is good with tactics, perhaps in time she'll be one of the best Azgeda has ever had. What else?"

"She performs well under stress and in difficult situations. She does not scare easily, and her temperament is akin to that of a stalking panther."

Nia gritted her teeth at her sekken's evasiveness. In a voice that was little more than a growl, she spoke one last time. "Ontari, I do not wish to hear what I already know. _Ron ai ridiyo op._ Speak true. What do _you_ think of her?"

Ontari's eyes darted across her queen's face, a sliver of fear inadvertently showing through upon hearing the threat in her tone. She willed herself not to flinch as the next words came out. "I do not like her."

To her surprise, instead of receiving a blow across the temple for speaking so plainly, Ontari saw Nia's countenance turn contemplative, yet that did not quell her unease. Years of watching for the little tells that sometimes flitted across her queen's face led her to realize that she gearing up for something, her eyes glittering like a cat that was playing with its prey before it went for the kill.

"And why do you not like her, my dear Ontari?" Nia questioned, a hint of knowing in her voice.

"Whenever I speak to her she acts as if better than me. She doesn't speak outright, but it's always in the way she looks at me whenever I say or do anything." Ontario explained. "It's the little things that she does that piss me off, like she could've walked in here keeping pace, but of course she decides to sweep in and leave everyone who follows in the dust. I think that—"

Ontari's rant was cut off by a swift backhand from Nia. Stumbling back, she looked up in surprise and confusion. As she was about to open her mouth Nia held up a hand. Making her way toward one of the windows overlooking the main street, the queen took a moment to compose herself.

"I did not strike you because of your dislike for Bellatrix." Her words were not cold, but they settled like ice in Ontari's veins, freezing the girl to the spot in which she stood. "You have been told time and time again to reign in your impulsiveness and rash behaviour. However, you seem insistent on defying instruction nevertheless." Turning, the queen rounded upon Ontari, standing nary a foot's breadth away from the girl's face. "Need I remind you of what I did to my own son, banishing him far from these walls for his weakness? If not for that, you would not be here. You may be special to those of the coalition, but know that I have no qualms in removing you and inserting another in your place." Her piercing gaze caused Ontari to quake inwardly, fearful of what punishment would most surely await her if she dared speak up now.

One moment passed, then two, and then the wrath which had moulded the queen's features fell away, and her next words were soothing. "There will always be people you must deal with that you do not necessarily like. However, they each have a purpose, as do you, and as it will be Bellatrix's place to serve under you one day, so it will be yours to use her, and every one of our people to the utmost of their capabilities. I do not send my warriors to their fate lightly, but I will not allow insubordination among my ranks. I am sure you understand this?"

Ontari needed no further enlightenment from her queen. She had been exceedingly humbled compared to when she'd entered, and she bowed low to emphasize that. " _Ai kwin._ My Queen."

Lips quirking upward slightly, Nia shooed her away. "Go now, send me General Iker. I would speak with him."

Another bow and the girl made herself scarce just as fast as Bellatrix had done earlier.

* * *

 

Erika was buzzing with excitement for two reasons. One, she, along with a handful of the other Azgeda seconds were rapidly approaching the time for receiving marks, ushering them into the ranks as fully fledged warriors. Two, for their final task they were to be divided up and sent off far outside known Azkru territory, thus testing their survival skills, as well as their efficiency in working as a team.

She had already checked and double checked her pack, making sure she had all the basics they were allowed to take. This assignment allowed only a bare minimum of gear. Everything else they would have to either find or make if they wanted to survive their allotted time. There was no telling how long they'd be out there, and she only hoped that the lottery would give her capable people to work with.

Her brow furrowed upon thinking of Tasha. How she prayed that she might not end up with that one. The girl was skillful enough, but she tended to flit from subject to subject aimlessly, causing no small annoyance at times when she was assigned tasks along with some of the other seconds. Erika had worked with her twice before, and was still in disbelief at certain of the things that came out of her mouth.

Making her way over to where the rest of the chosen seconds were taking their places to wait, her mood lightened upon seeing Atlas. He was around her age, eighteen summers now, and she still remembered when he was a kid with a mop of floppy corn colored hair sporting a crooked grin. Time had done wonders for him, making him tall and strapping, with wide shoulders and narrow waist. His hair was now trimmed neatly up the sides, leaving only a strip of blonde hair for a mohawk running down the middle. His smile was still a bit goofy, but it endeared him to Erika, just as much as it had back then. She decided right then and there that even if Tasha was destined to be among them, it would be worth it just to be with Atlas as well.

* * *

 

It had been a few hours since their respective firsts had left them, many miles away from any outpost, and as none of them had been this far north in their training, nobody had the least clue of where they were. At least they hadn't been dumped individually, Bellatrix noted with some small comfort. She recalled a story from the Ark, where in ancient Greece one of the warrior factions sent their children away alone to fend for themselves upon reaching a certain age. If they survived, they would return, blooded and war ready. If not, then it was just as well, they would not have any more resources wasted upon them. To live was to fight, and if one could not fight, one was better off dead. At least, that's what they were told.

Here it was similar, yet different. The majority of the population were warriors to some extent, and even with the harsh rigour with which one was raised, Azgeda was able to boast the largest standing army of any one clan, and even some combined. But the difference was that one did not have to be a warrior one's whole life. If you were injured and became unfit for the battlefield, you could still lead a life of relative comfort, depending on your previous ranking, and the company you kept.

Still, if she was being honest, there were many areas under the jurisdiction of Nia's generals where poverty abounded. Some of that could be attributed to the unrelenting ice and snow which they were famous for, that forged monsters and champions for Nia to command. However, it was also because of the _azplana_ herself that life was so hard.

The woman lived up to her title of the Ice Queen very well, mercilessly punishing the most trivial of crimes with a ruthlessness unmatched by any other clan. She had even gone so far as to banish her own son, doing so without a hint of remorse. None of them had been around when it happened, but they had heard nonetheless from the whispers and tales told by the older warriors, who'd barely been old enough to receive their marks when it had occurred.

Squinting her eyes to see through the snow blanketed forest, the land rugged and uneven for miles in every direction, their only point of reference to break up the endless range of forest being a range of hills to the northeast, Bellatrix could see nothing of import or danger nearby. If it started snowing however, things could change. Already Flint and Ruger were a ways ahead, looking for tracks in the snow that might end up filling their bellies with a warm supper tonight.

A hard nudge against her left side caused Bellatrix to break stride momentarily, before looking over to a smirking Kazia. Her expression must've been the tipping point, because suddenly the other girl threw her head back in laughter. "What is it?" She asked, arching a brow.

"You appear as if we are marching to war Bell, lighten up a little, hmmm?" Kazia grinned.

"I was not aware that making plans for our well being during the time we are stranded out here was so grim." Bellatrix was not unamused.

"Firstly, we could return at any time, so not "stranded." Kazia pointed out. "Second, this is the first time we've been given so much freedom in dare I say almost three years? We've been given the perfect opportunity, and I want to take advantage of it fully."

"What do you have in mind?" Bellatrix was curious now.

"We need to make a base of operations, close to water and food, and viable for proper shelter." Kazia explained. "Then, we do what we've been trained to do. Go out and hunt as much as we can, bringing back the meat and pelts to smoke and store, so that when our firsts return, we will have accomplished something worthy of note in providing for Azgeda."

"That's why you had Flint and Ruger start tracking right away." Kazia shrugged at the statement.

"It was common sense. Why eat cold rations when we don't have to?"

Bellatrix nodded. Kazia's plan made sense. But there was one thing she wasn't sure of. "Where do you plan on building a shelter for us? Now that it's winter the snow strikes sudden and relentless, making it difficult to find food, and if we're snowed in it will be nigh impossible to move around afterwards without snow shoes."

Kazia nodded to the hills Bellatrix had spotted earlier. "There might be caves over there. We don't want to wander too far from here, but that would be the best place to camp."

"Very well. What of the others? Can they be trusted?" Bellatrix murmured her next words, dropping a little further back from the rest of the pack as she did so.

Kazia's eyes flicked towards the front, where the remainder of their group was chatting animatedly among themselves. "Bree came down with us, and with us she stands. Ruger's quiet, but dependable. Flint already vouched for Miles, and Arlo is Erika's brother. He may be two years younger, but he and his sister are extremely close, and as Erika is one of us, he is too."

Bellatrix chuckled. "Remind me again how exactly did you earn her regard? Because I remember something about you punching her in the face after she pissed you off one too many times."

"I had to do something, I was just waiting for the right time to do it."

"And of course you just had to drop her to the ground in front of all the other seconds."

"Exactly."

"Well it paid off." Bellatrix commented after a moment.

Kazia nodded with a small smile. It was with no small amusement that she recalled that day, shortly after they'd been selected as seconds for training. A dark haired girl sporting one smart mouth appeared out of nowhere and began following her around almost constantly, throwing insults whenever she got the chance. She had been annoying in her own right, but it didn't seem like there was anything Kazia could do about it.

For the first while they had been out of earshot of anyone else. Then one day everything changed, as the girl decided to switch up her tactics. That was her mistake. They were just arriving to the training area when Kazia made her move. As the girl pushed past arrogantly, Kazia struck like lightning, yanking the girl back and delivering a swift blow to her face.

Intent on teaching this insolent second a lesson, though she had just barely begun her own training, Kazia was greatly surprised when the girl dropped like a rock to the ground and didn't move. The altercation had also caught the attention of a handful of warriors and seconds who were training. She didn't care though, and leaving the girl where she lay Kazia stalked forward, her head held high amidst the curious and shocked stares that fell her way.

Later that same day, the girl found her once again. The left side of her temple had already begun to purple a bit, but that wasn't what surprised Kazia. Instead, she was struck speechless when the girl began to apologize for her previous behaviour. Apparently the girl's first had demanded to know what had taken place after she woke up, not only putting her on sanitation duty for the foreseeable future for her actions, but also ordering her to go back and make amends.

Taking a moment to consider the girl's request, observing that she did indeed appear remorseful, Kazia made a choice. Grasping the girl's arm, she looked her in the eye and asked only one thing. "What is your name?"

"Erika." The words came tumbling out before the dark haired girl could think. Kazia nodded once to herself, as if storing away the information for later use.

"Strong name. Very well, I guess I'll see you around, Erika." Kazia bade her farewell with a light smile before departing to attend to her other duties, leaving the girl to stand staring after her.

She'd earned Erika's respect that day, and garnered the attention of the other seconds as a result of her actions. It was something they would not soon forget, but that was okay. At least Kazia had made a friend outside her own group.

* * *

 

The wind was picking up now, and the clouds had moved to cover all that was blue in the sky, threatening to assault the seconds with a blizzard of ice and snow. If that wasn't bad enough, there was only a couple hours of daylight left, and they had not found any tracks yet. On a better note, they were now closer to the range of hills, which turned out to be little more than a steep wall of rock, not easily climbable. However the noise from the wind made it impossible to discern if anything might be stalking them, and as the snow began to fall thick and fast, their vision was also limited. Looking back on it now, it was the simple fact of being in the right place at the wrong time.

A howl, long and lonesome, followed shortly by others cut through the wind as it blew against them, freezing the seconds in their tracks. Drawing their weapons, they entered into battle formation, each squinting against the flurries as they strained their eyes to pick out what could possibly be a pack of hungry wolves. Unfortunately, the reality turned out to be far worse than they had expected.

From behind a large rock formation not fifty paces away a monster of nightmares materialized. Every second had heard countless tales of the big and mighty pauna that roamed the far northern regions in and beyond Azgedan reach, preying upon those who dared travel without sufficient protection, or besieging small villages with livestock animals.

This however, held no water on anything they had ever encountered, no, this thing was larger than life. In the split second before the situation fell apart, Bree estimated the creature to be standing a good foot or so taller than the tallest horse she'd ever seen, which was about seven feet tall, its size being comparable to that of one of the larger vehicles they would occasionally come across on the abandoned _asvol_ roads that wound their way through Azgedan land.

A wolf stood before them, black as night, and if it weren't for its great expansion being the most notable thing about it, perhaps the fact that it sported not one, not two, but three monstrous heads had the second wondering if Hades was anywhere near. After all, in Greek mythology, the Cerberus guarded the gates of the underworld, and if this was a sign, she feared they would not live to see the next day.

She was unable to contemplate any further however, as upon Kazia's command they split up, aiming to flank the beast. There was nowhere to run or hide, it was either fight or die at this point. In a moment she had her bow ready and was looking for a spot to sink an arrow into the wolf. The heads would be too hard, if she was lucky maybe she could take out an eye, but no doubt that would anger the wolf too much, and the heads were snarling and snapping too quickly for that to be feasible target.

"Draw it away, I want to test its hide!" She shouted.

Kazia nodded, and gesturing to Ruger, they grabbed the pauna's attention and began luring it into position. It was unbelievably exhilarating, but the game swiftly took to new heights of deadliness as the wolf struck with lightning speed after the retreating seconds, its claws catching Kazia across the face in a vicious swipe, travelling down the side of her neck to her arm, a red trail immediately springing up from where it passed. The weight and strength behind the blow felled the second to the ground, and in that instant the wolf was upon her, ready to rip her throat out.

The graveness of the situation was not lost on Bree, and without thinking, she pulled back on the bow string to let the arrow fly, feeling no small amount of relief mixed with satisfaction as it travelled to its mark behind the right shoulder of the wolf, exactly where she had been looking. The arrow only penetrated halfway, but the wolf stopped into its tracks with a yelp nonetheless. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Bree already had an arrow notched and ready to fly, this time striking the beast square in the eye of its right head.

Luckily, though the arrows had not done much damage, they had distracted the wolf from the prone girl, and was now rounding about upon the source of the thorns in its side.

"Hide's too tough for arrows, we have to try something else!" Flint bellowed from where he was positioned, dancing just out of reach of the pauna's powerful tail. His cry was his undoing, as the wolf turned next upon him and with its middle head swiftly clamped around his torso with its enormous jaws.

Lifting the boy up as if he weighed no more than a pup, the great beast shook him left and right furiously, blood splattering the snow darkly. Cries of anguish were ripped from his throat as sharp teeth punctured through the light leather armour and dug unforgivably into his chest and stomach. They were short lived however, as a savage thrust from a sword pierced the wolf's left flank caused it to balk, dropping its prey, intent on dispatching this new cause of its rage.

Arlo backed up, a look of fear plain across his face upon realizing that he was going to be next. In that moment several things happened. Bellatrix and Ruger rushed forward, swords drawn on either side of the pauna, in a desperate attempt to disable it. Then, from the rock formation now directly behind the wolf, a head appeared. With a cry of rage and anger Kazia leapt from the rock and descended upon the massive beast, her sword pointed downward upon its enormous neck, driving deep past flesh and fur, into bone and muscle, effectively severing all nerve connection to the middle and right heads.

Howls of pain and fury escaped its throats, the wolf shuddering immensely from the trauma it was enduring, before falling forward, unable to hold two of its heads up. Upon seeing the condition the beast was in, the others were greatly heartened, and fell upon it with swords and battle cries. It wasn't long before the great beast was dispatched, several death spasms tearing through its body. Its snarling and growling died down to whimpers as the last of its life force drained out into the snow, melting it with the warmth of the red that gushed.

They were too exhausted from their efforts to even cheer, death had brushed too close for them to be anything but somber at this point. And for one of them, death may have once again come calling.

As soon as the great wolf had stilled in its struggles, Kazia stumbled off of it, and staggering over to where Flint lay prostrate in the snow, his eyes barely open, she fell on her knees beside him, cradling his head in her hands.

"You did it, Kaz." He smiled weakly at her.

"We did it." She said, her lips trembling even as she tried to smile back.

Flint hummed in contradiction, before squeezing his eyes shut in agony. Immediately, Kazia's gaze snapped to his wounds, and laying open his jacket, she saw that they were deep indeed. Blood was freely spilling down either side, steam already coming off it as it quickly cooled in the snow. "Ruger, Arlo, tear up your extra shirts into strips. We need to bind his wounds right now." Fear was beginning to kick in for Kazia upon seeing Flint like this. Matthew wasn't here, and though he had taught most of them basic first aid, she wished he had been selected to be among them.

The one time they didn't have a healer among them was the time that a member of their party was gravely injured. It would've been humorous as it seemed that Flint was making a point of courting death if it weren't for the fact that he was in grave danger of losing this time.

The two seconds wasted no time, and wrapping the strips of cloth around Flint's torso, they tied them securely, thus holding his wounds shut for the time being. That would only buy them a little time however. They had to get moving.


	7. Safe Haven

Leaving the beast's carcass in the snow a few miles back, as it would have been too heavy anyway, the group pressed rapidly onward. Even with the light packs each carried, Bellatrix could tell that they would not be able to go on much further. Kazia had taken Flint from Miles a while back to spell him for a bit. The poor second was drifting between the plains of consciousness at this point, jolting awake to excruciating pain every time she stumbled over the uneven ground. The group of seconds had been all but completely disoriented in the blizzard that came upon them, yet they pushed on, with Kazia being the only one out of them all who seemed to have any idea of where they were.

Eyes flicking up and down the rock wall Kazia squinted her eyes, trying to peer through the snow whipping down around them. Once the storm had hit, she had all but lost her sense of direction, and now she was just hoping and praying they would be able to find a certain spot in the rock face that would lead them to safety. Even though she had never laid eyes on the range of cliffs before this day, the way they had been described to her stuck out in her mind clear as day. Flint wouldn't last much longer, and the binding of his wounds was only temporary, they would need to be burned shut if he was to survive. With the blood he had lost so far, it would be days before he would even be able to travel, and therefore it was imperative they find shelter within the next mile or two.

Kazia almost let out a cry of relief when she spotted the outline of a tunnel through the rock giving way ahead of them, and as they approached, it became clear that the passage was inadvertently designed so as to hide the sheltered cove that lay beyond. As they passed through, their presence attracted a group of warriors from the wooden structures that lay beyond, all of whom approached, armed to the teeth, and without any intention of letting them pass. A shout rang out across the clearing, a command for the small group of seconds to identify themselves.

" _Beja, sis osir au!_ Please help us!" Arlo called out as he darted forward. His progress was cut off as a handful of spears were pointed in his direction. Halting, he held his hands up in front of him. " _Oso nau throu daun au yu._ We don't want to fight you."

" _Azkru_ _put daun osokru, yu nau gyon klir._ Azegda executes our people, you will not pass here." Came the aggressive shout from one the warriors behind the spear line upon recognizing the distinct decorations of Azgeda on the second's clothing.

The rest of the group had caught up to Arlo by this time. Stepping to the forefront, Kazia held her head high in challenge, the blood covering her face presenting a frightful spectacle in the gleaming torch light. " _Ai laik Kausha kom Azkru! Ai don sis au Fitts, nomfa de Garrick,_ _kom de pauna alba!_ I am Kazia of the Ice People! I saved Fitz, son of Garrick, from the white pauna!"

Seeing the hesitation written across their faces upon hearing her words, Kazia repeated Arlo's previous request for assistance, stating that the others who followed were hers as well.

One of the opposing warriors broke away from the rest, dashing towards the buildings, no doubt to inform whoever was in charge of these people who had come. The rest still blocked passage, but were less aggressive, obviously waiting for orders from higher up. Kazia shifted Flint to a more comfortable position in her arms, unwilling as of yet to let him go.

It didn't take long before a figure emerged from one of the wooden houses, and upon approaching them, Kazia discerned the newcomer to be a female, possibly a few years older than her and Bellatrix at the most. One of the warriors leaned to whisper in her ear when she had come close enough. After a moment, her head turned to the front, scanning the group of seconds looking for their leader. Her eyes landed on Kazia's face, and she looked her up and down before coming forward. "You are Kazia kom Azkru?"

Kazia lifted her chin slightly. "I am." She replied evenly, keeping her gaze locked on the other woman's face.

"Those who travel with you, can they be trusted?" The woman's gaze was now resting upon the other seconds, trying to discern whether or not treachery was among them. They kept their faces indifferent, however, trusting Kazia to get them through this test.

"They will not cause you any trouble, nor will their tongues be loosed to speak of this in mixed company."

After some consideration the woman seemed to accept Kazia's words, and ordering her warriors to stand down, she gestured for the group of seconds to follow. As Kazia fell in beside her, the woman began to speak. "My name is Iskra, and the boy you saved is my brother Fitz. Do not fear for your wounded, our healer is highly skilled. His fight will not end today." The hut they halted in front of was smaller than the others. Arlo, Bree, and Ruger remained outside, while Kazia entered, closely followed by Bellatrix.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Kazia could see it was a one-room building, and only contained a few cots, all vacant at this point, while the walls were lined with shelves containing various dried plants and herbs for healing, as well as for making poison, ranging in degrees from mild to deadly.

Bellatrix watched as Kazia checked Flint's pulse after laying him on one of the beds. His skin was a ghostly white, and the jacket he was wearing was slick with blood. The healer entered a few moments later and began examining the dark-haired youth. Throwing away the red soaked strips of fabric they had bound around Flint's torso, he efficiently cleaned the affected area. The blood had slowed some, due to the cold, but showed no signs of ceasing, quickly replacing what had been wiped away.

Looking up, the healer addressed the two girls quietly. "I will need to burn the injuries shut in order to prevent the danger of infection."

"Do it." Kazia's voice was tight with emotion, her only concern at the moment being the boy lying before her, whom she had come to consider as a younger brother over the duration of their time together in Azgeda. She remembered the first night on the ground, how he had worked past his fear of their captors, standing by them through the toughest challenges any of them had ever endured, all without breaking. He had grown stronger and was showing great promise under the careful instruction of his first, when they had been sent out to test their ability to survive on their own.

They had been doing fairly well up until today, but now Kazia feared losing another of her family, even with all the healer was capable of, and she prayed that his time had not yet come.

The clearing of a throat roused Kazia from her thoughts, and her eyes found Bellatrix's, who had been observing her the entire time. As Bellatrix opened her mouth, Kazia held up a hand. "I need you to look after the others. I'll keep an eye on Flint for now." The tone of her voice brooked no room for argument, and though the dark-skinned girl wanted to convince Kazia to rest herself, she knew that would be a useless endeavour. The Slavic girl would push herself until she dropped from exhaustion, and Bellatrix hated seeing her at times trying to shoulder the whole burden herself when she was surrounded by a supportive family in their group of seconds, from both the sky and the ground. Maybe someone else would be better suited to the task. Turning on her heel, Bellatrix left the hut without another word.

It wasn't long after Flint's wounds had been sealed and dressed, that Iskra chose to reappear. Taking in Kazia's clearly exhausted form, she reached down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "There is a bed already made for you."

Kazia shook her head stubbornly. "I need to make sure he will be okay."

Glancing between the girl and the boy lying on the bed, though they did not share a familial resemblance, Iskra could clearly see the devotion that this second displayed went far above mere friendship. That she considered him a lover did not make sense, as they were too far apart in age for that to be plausible, therefore the only other option was that they were siblings, though perhaps not in blood. Iskra knelt in front of the girl. "There is nothing more that can be done. If he is a fighter, and if he is blessed, he will survive. But one cannot worry about what cannot be controlled. Please trust us, that we are doing the best we can."

Kazia's eyes shot toward Iskra momentarily, frustration, anger, and fear dancing behind them, before dropping her gaze to the floor. The broken whisper that fell from cracked lips was so quiet the older woman barely heard it. "I can't lose him too." Her eyes glistened as they met Iskra's. "I've already lost so many. I do not wish to lose anymore." She swallowed a sob, once again attempting to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Is he strong?" Iskra asked. She received a nod in return. "Does he know how much you care about him?"

"I care for all of them."

"Then he will survive." Iskra reassured Kazia. "I have seen warriors survive wounds more grievous than these, and those who have weak minds die from less. What he needs is rest. When his body is ready, he will wake up. But you must be patient, and in the meantime remember to look after the others under your charge. Tend to your own needs as well, so you may be ready when you are called upon."

Kazia gave a tired sigh. Iskra was right. She couldn't worry about what she couldn't control, and Flint was stubborn as a mule. By now also Bellatrix had probably made sure the others were tended to, so she had nothing to worry about there.

"Where's the rest of my party?" Kazia inquired, all business once again as she rose from the cot she had been seated on.

Iskra straightened up as well, leading them out of the hut. "My people have taken them into their homes. I have extra space in my house for you as well. We will share our food supplies until you can get back on your feet."

"I thank you, but this, what you're doing, is very unlike the rest of your people." Kazia pointed out, curiosity evident in her voice.

"What do you mean, my people?" Iskra queried.

"You were from Azgeda once, were you not." Kaszia stated matter of fact. "In my time in Azgeda, I have seen the rule of the strong over the weak. Warriors are treated as the upper class in Azegdan society, and anyone who is not a warrior, such as those who farm the land, forge weapons, or trade between clans are looked down upon like lower class people."

"While your observations are true for the most part, there are those of us who believe that type of social distinction is wrong. Without someone to specialize in different areas of life such as healing, making clothes, and forging tools among other things, our people would be unable to function as a whole." Iskra explained. "When you look at the Coalition, it is, in reality, a great feat to have been accomplished in so little time. Just twenty years ago, our people were at war that had no end in sight. Clans would change alliances in a heartbeat over the most trivial slight in some cases, while in others because the promise of wealth and victory was too hard to resist." She continued as they entered the house.

"What about the previous Commanders? Didn't they at least have some say in what was happening?" Kazia asked in confusion.

Iskra shook her head. "Usually the natblidas who won their conclaves were loyal to their own clan. It wasn't until the current commander, as well as the one previous, that the unification of the clans became a reality. The maunon unwittingly served as a crucial piece of the puzzle while they were in existence. The clans came together through compromise, trade deals, and threats, but mainly through the fear of what the maunon could do to them."

Gesturing for Kazia to have a seat on a bed, Iskra went to fetch a bowl of water, as well as some cloths for cleaning. Handing the younger woman a small mirror, she set the bowl and the cloths on the table by the bed. "Use these to clean the blood away. I'll send for Mikkel to bring a healing paste for the wounds."

Dipping the cloth in the water, Kazia rang the excess out before carefully dabbing at her face while observing her reflection in the mirror. The dried blood was crusted over and partially frozen on, making it painful to remove. She winced as the premature scabbing fell away, and fresh blood oozed through the torn skin. Rinsing the cloth out, she continued making her way down the side of her face to where her neck disappeared into the collar of her jacket, before taking that off so as to allow better access from her neck to right shoulder, where the claw marks had easily torn through her clothing, stopping just above her forearm.

She had been extremely lucky to have survived, Kazia remembered. If it hadn't been for Bree's quick thinking and even faster shooting, she wouldn't be alive to tell the tale. After the wolf had turned its attention to Flint, Kazia had pulled herself up and out of her daze through sheer willpower. When she spied the rock formation, she immediately had an idea of where to hit the wolf, if only she could ascend the pillar of stone. When it was all said and done, though they had survived the encounter, that was not an experience Kazia was eager to repeat.

By the time she finished cleaning the claw marks, her face and shoulder were thoroughly warmed up, and the pain that had previously been dulled by the frigid temperatures was now back in full force, threatening to give Kazia a whopper of a headache. Squinting her eyes at the reflection in the mirror, she cursed upon seeing her appearance. As the words fell away from her lips, the sound of a door closing caught her attention, and her eyes darted upwards, taking in Mikkel's silent hulking form.

The healer, followed closely by Iskra, took one look at Kazia's face and without comment pulled up a chair in front of her. Dipping his fingers in a bowl filled with paste, he gently smeared the mixture along the angry red trails. Kazia's eyes hooded slightly at the cool feeling of the medicine, delighting in how the mixture made the cuts instantly feel better.

"There is honey in there, it will help minimize scarring when your injuries heal." Iskra said from where she sat to the left of Kazia.

Kazia hummed in acknowledgment, her eyes now fully closed, practically basking in the cool relief working its way down her shoulder and arm. "We left the carcass a few miles on our back trail. It was too heavy to attempt to transport it as well as Flint." She spoke after a moment, answering the unspoken question as to the nature of her injuries.

"What did it look like?" Iskra asked suspiciously, not daring even for a moment to consider what it may have been.

Kazia opened her eyes slightly and glanced over at the older woman. "Big and black, with three heads, larger and wider than two battle stallions."

Iskra's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "You defeated _cebes_?" The answering nod had her staring at the younger woman with a mixture of awe and horror. "That wolf has been killing much of our livestock as well as any who venture forth alone into the forest."

"And I intend to take its heads as my trophy." Came the matter of fact reply.

"You are crazy, and very lucky." Iskra mused, shaking her head in wonder and disbelief.

"One must be those and much more just to survive." Mikkel spoke up for the first time during the exchange.

Kazia eyed the healer a moment before nodding in agreement. "I intend to do much more than just survive." A deeper meaning was evident in her tone of voice, but neither Iskra nor Mikkel ventured to ask more at the present.

Mikkel's duty completed, he stood and gathered his things, leaving without so much as a farewell. Iskra stayed, however, watching Kazia inquisitively, half wondering if the girl had any other remarks or tales of astonishment.

Something had struck Iskra as odd earlier about the way the warrior girl had talked about her own people as apart from Azgeda. But as she opened her mouth to ask why, a deep sigh came from the younger woman, and she realized a little sheepishly that Kazia had passed out, no doubt entirely drained from her exertions.

Further conversation out of the question for the night, Iskra rose herself from where she was seated, and went to retire to her own bed, but not without making a note to ask later just what exactly Kazia had meant.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun had risen hours ago, yet the soft glimmers of sunlight now filtering inside were not what woke Kazia. The low hum of many voices from outside rising in pitch was what brought the girl to her senses. Blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling above her, she took a few moments to recall what had happened the night before. As soon as she formed Flint's name in her mind, Kazia was tumbling out of bed and scrambling to grab her jacket, as well as put on her boots, which someone had taken the liberty of removing the night before.

Opening the door, she had to squint at the brightness that now struck with full force against her skin. The wooden slats in the window had done much to temper the harshness of the sun, allowing one to pleasantly come awake. It didn't take long for her vision to adjust, however, and upon seeing that the other members of her group were up and about, she threw a greeting in their direction before crossing over the clearing to the healers' hut.

Once inside, she knelt by Flint's bedside, checking his pulse, and looking over the bandages. No blood showed through, the healer having seared the wounds shut the night before, and the only signs of infection would now show through risen temperature. Placing a hand on the boy's forehead, Kazia felt a sigh of relief escape her lips when she detected no abnormality.

Just as she was about to leave, the door swung open behind her, and Arlo darted in, excitement written across his features. "Kaz, you've got to come see this!"

"What is it?" She asked, rising.

Grabbing her hand, Arlo practically dragged Kazia out, and she had to refrain from chuckling at the younger boy's enthusiasm. They had barely taken more than a few steps before Kazia halted in her tracks, her hand slipping out of Arlo's grip. It seemed as if all the children had gathered in one place, exclaiming over what appeared to be a small fuzzy ball of black fur.

In fact, as she ventured closer to the group, Kazia spied the twitch of tiny ears, and a small mouth open as the creature, who was being carried by one of the older warriors, let out a tiny yawn.

"Is that a—-"

"Puppy?" Miles finished for her.

Kazia nodded dumbly, still not quite awake.

He shook his head, a row of perfect teeth revealing themselves as he grinned. "Iskra sent out a scavenging party at dawn to retrieve the wolf's carcass. Turns out it was a she, and turns out she had pups."

"What happened to the others?" Kazia asked.

"Didn't make it." Came the reply. "Riley heard a whining sound coming not far from the carcass. The mother's den was right by where she found us. Said the rest died from lack of food."

Momentarily, Kazia felt a stab of sadness upon realizing the wolf was just providing for her pups. That didn't last long when she recalled what Iskra had told her. It was better that the wolf died than them. The safety of the people far outweighed the life of a single animal.

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated the fate of the last remaining pup. That it hadn't been disposed of raised a multitude of questions in her mind, first and foremost being why. A sharp poke to her ribs brought Kazia out of her thoughts, and she cast an annoyed glance at the perpetrator.

"You look like we're going to war." Came the chuckle to her left.

Narrowing her eyes slightly Kazia was swift on the return. "Mockery is unbecoming a future leader."

A bemused smile crossed Bellatrix's face as she surveyed her friend. For a moment it seemed as though the ever increasing wrinkles furrowing Kazia's brow had smoothed. Then they returned in full force as the other girl gestured to the black wolf nestled securely in the nest of Riley's cloak. "What are they going to do with it?" She inquired.

Bellatrix merely shrugged, just as in the dark as Kazia was. "Maybe you should ask, contrary to popular belief I don't know everything."  
Kazia gasped in fake surprise. "Really? Well, you didn't mention that in the brochure."

"Wasn't allowed. Something about it being false advertising." Bellatrix smirked.

"I see, maybe I should get a refund."

"Good luck with that, I heard they don't accept returns."

Kazia rolled her eyes, stepping away from the dark-skinned girl, and toward the two warriors who were still regaling the young ones with the little ball of fur. The warrior Miles had identified as Riley smiled at her. "We found this one curled into its mother's side. Judging from the size he's only a few weeks old." He said, seeing her questioning look.

"I assume since you didn't kill it, your intentions are to keep it?" Confusion tinging her voice, Kazia didn't even wait for a reply before she continued. "How would you feed it? It looks too young yet to have been properly weaned."

"Actually, Iskra already suggested giving it to you." The warrior's reply halted the girl's train of thought.

"What?" Kazia was entirely nonplussed. Riley's words seemed to have gotten stuck somewhere between the hearing and translating part. "Could you repeat that?"

"What he means," A new voice entered into their conversation, and casting a glance over her shoulder as the newcomer arrived, Kazia saw that it was Iskra herself. "Is that because you slew _cebes,_ in the event that the mother had surviving offspring, they would be given to the one who killed her."

Kazia's mouth opened and closed a couple times, but she couldn't manage to get any words out. Iskra chuckled at her expression, and gesturing for Kazia to follow she spoke. "Come, we can discuss this later. I am sure you are hungry, yes?"

Nodding wordlessly, Kazia fell into stride as they headed to the common eating area.

* * *

 

Miles watched as the two women left, before cutting his eyes to Bellatrix. "What are we going to do when Flint wakes up?" He questioned, searching her face.

"For now, we wait until he is recovered. It would be foolishness to venture out with one of our own severely injured like this. When Flint is ready, then we follow Kazia's orders."

He nodded thoughtfully at her words. "I owe my life to Kazia, we all do. I 'm not so sure I would've thought of an overhead attack, and without her stumbling upon this place, I know Flint's body would be frozen over by now. It is unusual for one to put another life above their own, and I respect that. I will wait."

"You and the rest of us." Bellatrix clapped Miles on the shoulder with a smile. Calling the rest of their group to her, she surveyed the alert faces and watchful eyes in front of her. "Make yourselves useful. Our benefactors have given us much in the way of assistance and I expect that you will show your appreciation for this. We will gather tonight for the evening meal, but until then, off with you all."

Saluting, they split up, each going a different direction. Bellatrix herself went to seek out Iskra's second in command. There were things that needed to be discussed.

* * *

 

They were sitting at a table alone, the single tray of meat and bread decorating it being rapidly decimated by a ravenous Kazia. As she'd been unwilling to use her survival rations unless completely necessary, Kazia had foregone eating the past day, and in the exhilarating and dangerous turn of events the evening before had forgotten that she hadn't eaten at all, exhaustion having weighed upon her like a heavy stone.

As hungry as she was, the young woman still kept up a conversation with Iskra. "Fitz really looks up to you. He was usually quiet, never spoke much to anyone else, but when he told me about you..." Trailing off, Kazia prompted Iskra to speak.

"We are the last of our family's bloodline. Our parents were driven out of Azgeda almost twenty years ago, and he was born shortly after that." Iskra explained. "They were taken from us when he was less than three summers, our father succumbing to the cold after he broke his leg falling down a crevice in the mountains; and our mother died from her wounds during an attack on our old village. Queen Nia is not compassionate toward dissenters."

"So you basically raised him then. How did you manage to integrate Fitz back into Azgeda when he wasn't born there?" Kazia asked.

"Even though we have been officially cut off and thrown away, there are ties still binding us with certain of the Azkru. I stayed in contact with an old friend of my parents, and when Fitz was of age, I sent him back under his care so he could be trained as a warrior. We may have been cast out, but Fitz was innocent in all of it, and he deserved to at least have a chance to be among his own people."

"Have you seen him at all since you sent him away?"

Iskra shook her head. "No. I count the days and pray that each will bring me closer to seeing him at least one more time. We've been lucky to have been able to live here in peace from Nia's warriors for the past eight years, but I still fear we may be accidentally discovered. If we are forced to move again, Fitz will not know where we are, and I most likely will never see him again."

"While the two of you have a breath left in your bodies, there is hope." Kazia assured her solemnly.

Nodding in silence, Iskra stayed staring at the wood of the table between them. She was lost in contemplation for a long moment before a thought barged its way to the front, and her head shot up. "Kazia. Last night the way you spoke of Azgeda as apart from yourself. Are you not Azkru?"

The way the other girl stiffened at her words confirmed everything Iskra needed to know, but she kept quiet, waiting for Kazia to speak for herself. "I do not know how much you are aware of the circumstances among the other clans, but no, I was not born within the walls of Azgeda's capital. I was born far away, among darkness and light, metal walls and stale air. We were supposed to be the last remnants of humanity, who'd escaped to the stars right before Praimfaya came and burned everything to the ground." She paused to gather her thoughts. "When we finally came back, expecting a clean slate, we found there were people who had survived. Before I came we were aware of this, but we had no idea what was to befall us when we came."

Kazia told Iskra all that she knew of life as it was before the ground, and what they had faced upon reaching it. The interrogations, the torturing, the many deaths. The family she'd lost both in the sky and on the ground, and those she had gained. They'd been taken and reformed, their old lives stripped away and rebuilt in the image of a stern and cold people, baptized in blood and violence, their innocence long since ripped away.

"And yet you still harbor compassion for those around you." Iskra said with wonder in her voice.

"Because I was never broken. Yes I changed, we all did, but the oaths we took were stronger than the adversity we faced. We vowed to live and fight together till our flames were extinguished, through war, sickness, and old age. There is no life for us but the one we make, and we aim to make it the best we can, not only for us but for our posterity as well." Kazia stated with a fire in her eyes.

"And what of the rest of your people beyond Azgedan borders?" Iskra queried.

"Most of them have gathered together in a place they named Arkadia, after the Ark. They are allied with the Trikru, and by extension, Floukru. Beyond that, I do not know. But my people are also in Azgeda, and of Azgeda now, and therefore I will stay with them."

Iskra nodded, satisfied with the answer she'd received. Something inside of her sparked upon conversing with this soon-to-be warrior, and she felt as if she was privy to the beginnings of something special that would begin to change the lives of those around her in the future.

* * *

 

A week later the group of seconds bade farewell to the people who had taken them in and helped them, the rescued wolf pup snuggled in Kazia's hood much to the glee of the others. She'd finally been convinced to take the young thing, the persuasion having stemmed surprisingly from the words of one of the children. However, she did not maintain any thoughts of naming it, at least, not yet. Time would tell whether or not he would be worthy of naming.

Later Kazia caused everyone to swear never to speak of what had taken place back there. She had no need for threats, however, as they all understood the implications both to themselves as well as Iskra's nomads. Even if any among them had dared to betray the secret, they knew to expect a swift death, as in Azgeda treachery is not to be taken lightly.

Marking the days as they passed, the seconds busied themselves first with finding and making comfortable the shelter they'd found. Ruger had spotted a cave high up on the side of a mountain cliff as they were walking by the one day. Flint was still on light duty, but he and Miles worked together to build a ladder to reach the opening, and they held it while Bree went up to investigate. The older girl made them all wait a few minutes to agonize over her before giving the all clear. Bellatrix did not find this funny, and attempted to assign her to firewood duty, but was vetoed by Kazia, who found the whole situation hilarious.

So they waited, and watched, and survived. When their firsts returned, accompanied by the renewal of birdsong and the appearance of new grass amidst melting snow, they greeted and were greeted as proper warriors, having passed the test, and found favor. Now all that was left was for them to officially receive their marks.


	9. Divide and Conquer

Queen Nia looked with favor upon her newest warriors. Fallen from the sky not so long ago, now they stood in front of her properly blooded and freshly marked. Though their numbers had lessened over the course of three years, that was to be expected. What was surprising was how many of them were still present. It seemed as if they were survivors. Which was good, considering what she had planned for them.

It was with no little self satisfaction that Nia surveyed the stony and dispassionate faces before her. Her eyes roved over their figures until she settled on one in particular. Formerly a girl, now a woman in her own right, her wounds had healed, yet darkened scars running down the side of the warrior’s face remained clearly discernible even from this distance. Since her return along with a handful of other seconds from their latest trial, the woman’s reputation had begun to grow. Though before the former second had only partaken in minor exploits, certain of those had already taken root in the queen’s mind, and she’d made note to keep an eye on her.

“Warriors of Azgeda, hear me now. You have endured the trials set upon you, prevailing despite all odds. From this time onward, you are citizens of Azgeda, and as such you are entitled to all the privileges of one. Your service has only just begun, so fulfill your duties well, and take pride in your position.” A smile, not unkind, graced her features, a tinge of softness barely touching it before vanishing beneath a frosty exterior.

Silence reigned for a moment, then the newly marked warriors lent their voices together in a united shout, simultaneously saluting their queen with fire in their eyes. Nia’s smile only widened upon seeing their show of allegiance. Her warriors had indeed trained these ones well. They would assuredly be useful in the positions they gained.

* * *

 

Wasting no time, Kazia and a handful of her comrades were assigned to various positions at the front lines along the border between Azgeda and Podakru. For the next two years, Azgeda waged a border war against the mercenaries and nomads hired by both Podakru and Boudalan to infiltrate their territory.

Hardened criminals, many were outcasts gathered from each of the twelve clans, who’d committed acts of unthinkable cruelty and rather than face the death penalty, had gone on the run. Their leaders were some of the worst among them, rich bounties for their death or capture having been placed on their heads. Treason, murder, and rape were not uncommon to this sorry lot of filth.

Surviving while on the run for years turns one incredibly cunning. Ruthlessness was the only word these people understood, sympathy for anyone and anything having long been forgotten. As such, they were incredibly dangerous both in open combat, as well as under the cover of an ambush. A formidable enemy like this had never been encountered before in the short history of Azgeda.

Even with their own level of callous brutality, they were unable to match the same degree of craftiness these vagrants displayed, and so many were the casualties along Azgeda’s western border during the first few months. It was due to one such trap that the commanding officer of Kazia’s division was mortally wounded.

They had been struck unawares in the dead of night, and without mercy were being slaughtered left to right. Axel had been young like them, full of promise and in line to rise to a higher position in just a few more years. But as fate would have it, he would be struck down when he gave the order to retreat, and the light was rapidly fading from his eyes as he pressed a bloodied seal of captain into Kazia’s hand.

The handful that witnessed the exchange then turned their gazes on her, silently assessing as they awaited their next orders. Fulfilling Axel’s last order, she caused the remainder of the warriors to retreat in good order.

Though driven back, they would not be defeated. They devised a plan to counterattack the nomads when they continued their pursuit. Kazia’s commands were clear and swift, and bodies moved promptly to fill the positions that needed to be filled. When the enemy came crashing through the underbrush, loud in their reckless chase, the Azgedan warriors rose up from where they had been hidden and fell upon them with such a fury that none escaped the bloodbath that night.

Their swords glinted wetly in the moonlight from the liquid that covered the now slick metal. Kazia had bent down over one of the bodies and using the still warm blood, drew it as warpaint across her face, allowing the red liquid to follow the tracks left behind by the beast of a wolf, a cold smile tugging her lips when, as one, the others followed her example.

As they had been beaten, so they recovered and pushed the enemy before them, seeking out and killing each vagrant they encountered with extreme prejudice. Reclaiming the ground taken from them, they drove further, digging into the territory they’d staked out for themselves and holding firm. They reestablished the previously shattered links of communication on their northern and southern flanks and drawing on the increased strength of their fellow warriors, forged a path through the enemy’s flank, eliminating any possibility of retreat and reformation altogether.

Mercy was not expected, nor was it given. When a frontal attack deemed ineffective, they switched tactics. Kazia and a chosen few would go in under cover of darkness, their faces painted the traditional colors of white and black, though the pattern they choose was designed to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies, to make it seem as though the living dead had come to put out their flames.

As it was, in a few short months the invading force had been nearly cut in half, and as the warriors under Kazia’s command moved northward in pursuit, the Azgedan troops that they encountered along the line fell in behind her impromptu leadership, seeing as a few of the other captains did the same. In their eyes she was fearless, always in the midst of the fight, leading the charge when necessary. Their spirits lifted as well when they saw the swift results her command was bringing them, the prospect of not having to be at war for another year or two lightening the weight of their blades and bringing a merry song to their hearts.

* * *

 

As the war raged on without the capital, Bellatrix remained back within its walls with certain of the queen’s advisors. Though she was well enough trained in combat, and could more than handle her own out there, the woman’s ancestral roots lending greatly to her impressive stature as well as unusual strength, her place was elsewhere. From the beginning, it had been her duty to be the eyes and ears of their little rebellion, to gather information and formulate decisions based on her acquisitions.

At first, they were caught unawares due to Azgeda’s knowledge of the English language, and if fate had dealt them a different hand, they would’ve been dead long before they’d begun. It was a lesson that required no repeat, and since then Bellatrix had used the connections she’d made since Abner had taken her on as his second to surround herself with friends and enemies in high places.

Warriors stood in the blood and the dirt and fought with the sword in a battle immediately present; tacticians oversaw the battlefield from afar, biding their time and making moves as they deemed fit. They moved the pieces of the chess board, they were the ones who sent people to die to ensure the victory of their cause. Yet what some did not realize, the foolish and vain at least, was that they too were the chess pieces, pawns in the hands of the queen herself, who raised up those whom she saw fit and sacrificed those who’d fallen out of favor.

Even now discord was being sown in the queen’s court, as Bellatrix had heard the whispers coming from the mouths of Ontari’s cohorts concerning a private disagreement between Generals Reuben and Iker, respectively. From the information she’d garnered over the years, picked apart from rumors and hearsay and compared against their previous actions as well as meeting with them multiple times after formal assemblies, it seemed highly unusual that these two men would be feuding over, well, anything.

And yet, there was something. They were seasoned veterans and close friends, having seen more of war and bloodshed in their short time as compared to many others, yet the hairs on their head had not yet started to grey.

Here, in Azgeda at least, where children started training by the age of seven and were blooded before reaching the age of eighteen, everyone seemed to live fast and die young. Such was life when you’re constantly fighting one enemy or another, especially when said enemy lives not more than a stone’s throw from your borders.

Bellatrix heard that Iker was displeased with Reuben’s continued association with a man called Victor, whom Iker could see was making a point of fawning over the other general in such a way as to weasel his way into Reuben’s favor, and use it to gain for himself a seat on the council at the least.

The name did not go unnoticed by her at all. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and all the knowledge she’d gained concerning him through Flint’s shadowing of Miren over two years ago before he was reassigned with his first Aaron to the eastern territories came flooding back to the front of her mind. Victor hadn’t stayed long enough for Bellatrix to impose another watch, effectively whisking away Miren and any chance they had of reaching her for a while.

That man was a problem, that much she knew. He was devious, used to getting his way, and when he couldn’t, always vying for another option. Personal ambition and greed were the driving forces behind his actions and he carried enough patience and foresight to be able to see the bigger picture.

But there was nothing she could do at the moment, he did not pose a big enough threat to their own plannings to have him dealt with in a way that did not attract suspicion. But even now eyes were upon him, not just her own. And as he clawed his way higher through the ranks, it was not a question of if he would have to be taken care of at some point, but when. Bellatrix was hardly naive, she understood that someone as tenacious and unwavering such as he would undoubtedly be the ruin of the cause they were laboring tirelessly to achieve.

Bellatrix was pulled out of her musings by a knock on her door. “Enter,” she called out before returning her attention to the papers before her. The door swung open silently, just enough for the caller to enter before closing again just as quietly. Looking up, surprise swept across her features as she took in the tall strapping form of a young blond warrior standing in front of her desk. “Atlas.” She greeted, rising to grasp his arm. “It is agreeable to see you.”

The young man shook his overgrown bangs out of his face as he chuckled, returning the gesture. “Sometimes I wonder if you were always like this, or if your position has made you grow so reserved.”

“In this office, one must always be reserved, and yet I fear I have been on autopilot for the last few hours, so please forgive me. It is good to see you, Atlas.” Bellatrix’s smile was as warm as it was apologetic.

“And it is always good to see you, Bellatrix. But my visit is less than social this time.” Atlas looked around the room, taking in its rather spartan appearance, save for a few trophies of beast hunting, as well as the necessary weapons rack, which was unsurprisingly light seeing as the young advisor was still fully equipped.

“Please, have a seat, my friend.” Gladly obliging, Atlas sat, thankful for a short reprieve from the days hustle and bustle. “How is everyone doing?” Bellatrix’s first concern was for that of their own people, for in times like these you could never be too careful.

“Erika and Flint are doing fine where they’ve been stationed, Erika’s actually been complaining that its gotten boring, she’s been itching to test out that new sword of hers.” The young man chuckled upon imagining her sulky demeanor at not being able to stab at a bandit or a bear. “Miren was wounded at the front lines along our western border, but it wasn’t severe. Cash is with her, however, Victor is in command of that division, so I doubt there will be much conversation between them.”

Bellatrix nodded at the information. Since their contact with the girl had been broken up just over three years ago and hadn’t been reestablished even after they became warriors, any relationship between her and the rest of their original group was practically nonexistent. Therefore it was good that Cash was there, since he was born in Azgeda, he, like Atlas and Erika, and a handful of their other loyal comrades could get closer without arousing suspicion.

“And Matthew? I know he is not a warrior like the rest of us, but he has his part to do.” She inquired next.

“He is making himself out to be quite an invaluable asset, with his rather innate knowledge of medicine and herbs. There are already many warriors who have been saved from those accursed Podakru dogs.” Atlas spat those last words with some venom.

“Indeed, they do not deserve to die by such treacherous hands.” Bellatrix firmly asserted. “I assume Bree has been honing her sharpshooting skills with that bow of hers? The girl shoots with an uncanny sense of direction.”

“Yes, her marks steadily continue to rise, I think her back will be sore for many a night to come with the kills she’s racking up. Between you and me, she likes to show off. Nobody just jumps from a tree, shoots someone in the chest, and sticks a perfect landing without it being for the benefit of those around her.” Atlas shook his head.

“Perhaps you are just jealous that she’s better than you even though she’s had less training with the bow?” Bellatrix quirked an eyebrow, the ensuing staring contest between them lasting only a few moments before Atlas yielded.

“Maybe I’m just a bit jealous.” He admitted ruefully. “At any rate, I heard that the southern half of the opposition on our western border has already been crushed, and it appears as though Queen Nia is sending General Iker to oversee the final push to eliminate the rest of the enemy forces in the northern section.”

“And what of Kazia then?” Bellatrix questioned, curious as to what their leader was up to in the midst of all this. Atlas’ expression shifted at her question, and concern showed on his features. His eyes flickered around the room, and he was silent for a few moments before answering the question.

“Well, you see, Kazia is the reason Iker is being sent out. Reports of her accomplishments with only a few warriors swiftly rising to encompass nearly half of the Azgedan force along our border have put Nia on her guard. Though she is lower ranked than the field commanders, her aggressive and thorough tactics have blazed a path through the enemy faster and more efficiently than any of them had ever thought possible. Nia will not allow the entire victory to fall into the hands of a mere warrior, even if that warrior had been promoted to a captaincy.” Atlas explained.

“No doubt she will call Kazia back to the capital once the war is over.” Bellatrix calculated the moves in her head. “Does Kazia know the kind of position she’s put herself in?” She said more to herself than Atlas. “Nia will have no choice but to promote her, and even then she will probably arrange a convenient accident for Kazia, or send her off to fulfill an even more dangerous task.”

Atlas shook his head in confusion. “Why would Nia want to kill Kazia? If she turns out to be one of her best assets, why would she want to get rid of her?”

“Because other than becoming a warrior, Kazia has made no oath of dedication to the queen greater than that required of every warrior of Azgeda. Nia would rather kill a possible threat than have a powerful figure rise against her at some point.”

“But she already has certain in positions of great power, and though she exiled Prince Roan, she was merciful to him in that she did kill her own son. And that black haired girl, Ontari, she is not of the queen’s own blood, yet she is treated like the queen’s own daughter.” Atlas pointed out.

“The Prince may live in exile for the moment but he is still heir to the throne, and Ontari has been given no more than she is allowed. Nia will not let anyone hold more authority over any section of the kingdom besides herself. There is a reason she is queen, and it is not to be taken lightly.” Bellatrix warned.

“So what are we to do then?” Atlas asked.

“Whatever we can do to support Kazia. Since the spotlight is on her and not on us, we have the freedom to move around with a greater leeway. I heard you’re up for promotion, which will remove you over into the district of Ebec, which is currently under the control of General Reuben, correct?”

Atlas was mildly surprised at Bellatrix’s foreknowledge, having purposefully failed to inform most of the warriors he currently served with of his possible advancement, but looking back he knew he really shouldn’t be. The dark-skinned woman had a way of finding out information vital to her own interests that most would not be privy to.

His wonder grew as a fog seemed to clear slightly from his mind when he realized that Bellatrix had not inquired of their other comrades merely to check up on their well being. It was as if she sat before a row of chess boards, simultaneously planning and executing moves for each, the only knowledge at her disposal that which she acquired through the eyes and ears she continued to station not only throughout the capital but eventually throughout the various districts and provinces.

Erika and Flint were stationed in the province of Ontari, which was overseen by General Dechen, one of the main four territories controlled by Azgeda. Toba, north and to the west came under the supervision of General Tegan; Ebec was under General Reuben, and the three smaller districts of Vania, York, and Erm respectively fell under the command of General Iker.

Though many of them were still stationed between the capital and the Vania district, it was no small feat to spread out the roots of a revolution. Things like these took time as well as a watchful eye and careful watering, therefore it would be imprudent to rush such growth.

“He’s been replacing some of his personal guard, and in turn, he requires warriors to fill the gaps of those he’s chosen.”

“A perfect opportunity then, for both him and us. You know what to do then?”

Atlas nodded, he needed no reminder. Azgeda may have been his birthplace, yet he had no love for its queen. He grew up in an isolated part of the Toba province, one of the smaller villages far flung from the main outposts. When he was twelve winters a bandit attack wiped out almost every the inhabitant of the village without discernment for age or gender, the very old as well as the young and tender being put to the sword.

He, as well as a handful of other children, did survive, having been barricaded inside a dugout cellar unbeknownst to their attackers, the only structure to survive the torching of the village after the bandits had despoiled it of anything of value. When a patrol came to investigate the cause of the great smoke that billowed up over the trees, the children were found and taken back to the capital. Nothing more than orphans now, with a temporary roof over their heads and the opportunity to vie for the attention of seasoned warriors in order to become one of their seconds, they were given less than justice for the destruction of their homes and the deaths of their families.

At least with his moving up through the ranks, Atlas would eventually be able to make some changes, but one could not enact those changes alone, which is one of the reasons why he decided to join forces with them.

A rustling near the foot of one the many bookshelves that lined the back wall drew their attention. Bellatrix smiled fondly as a large black form shifted and stretched on a pile of furs that were strewn about. Making a clicking noise with her tongue she summoned the massive wolf pup. Stalking over to where she sat, the wolf nuzzled against her hand, prompting her to run her hand through his soft baby fur.

“How’s he doing?” Atlas asked with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Kazia left him with me because according to her, she didn’t come all this way just to have him die in the first fight he gets into. He misses her though, I can tell it in his eyes.” She mused.

“It’s not unusual for dogs to develop a deep bond with their masters, especially if they’ve been saved from certain death in one circumstance or another. Though I know his are less than ordinary, I have a feeling that he will be a loyal companion to her.”

“Loyaler than most people, that’s certain.” Bellatrix nodded. “I took some of Kazia’s bed furs before she left and gave them to him so he can remember her scent. One of the servants tried to take them away to wash them the other day and he growled and barked so much that she couldn’t help herself but to make a hasty exit.” She chuckled fondly at the memory. “Safe to say, no one has dared touch them since.”

As they spoke, the wolf pup slithered around the side of the desk and proceeded to lean his entire weight against Atlas’ leg, all the while facing the door, giving nary a hint that he actually was inviting attention from the blond.

When the wolf had first met him, he’d been somewhat wary of the male, but over time and observing how Bellatrix interacted with him and the fellow members of their group had eventually won his trust, and it certainly helped that Atlas would always give him a pet whenever he was around, sometimes sneaking him a piece of meat from the kitchens when Bellatrix wasn’t looking.

A few minutes and some good old roughhousing later and Atlas got up to leave. He said his goodbyes, promising to stay in touch after he was transferred. A while passed after he left, during which time Bellatrix was able to finish more of the paperwork she’ been given.

Glancing out at the far window she could see the light beginning to dim over the treetops, and the rumble of her stomach, as well as the “puppy dog eyes” the pup was sending her way, were the deciding factors in making up her mind. “Come on boy, you’ve done a good job guarding today, I suppose it’s time for a treat now.” Hearing her words, the wolf immediately leaned up against her, rubbing himself on her pant leg. Bellatrix merely rolled her eyes in amusement before letting them out of the room for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now we're all caught up, and I have to go write some more quality content with which to provide for all you hungry souls.
> 
> Fun fact: I had an idea to make this badass character that would get into a fight with some predator animal and acquire some really sick scars as a result. That idea turned into four different scenes that I wrote down, three of which were created before I officially began making this, and one while during. And as you can see, this is an ongoing project of that original idea.

**Author's Note:**

> I will most likely finish transferring the rest of the chapters onto here sometime later today as it is already 1:35 am where I am. Oh joy... 
> 
> Also, the Black Panther movie is out and I'm going to see that as well, it looks really cool. Have any of you seen it yet? If so, what are your thoughts?


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